Routine
by Captainly
Summary: Emma and Regina have always followed a simple routine when getting together. What happens when Regina unexpectedly breaks it?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I claim no rights to _Once Upon a Time_ or the characters used. They are the property of their respective owners and I make no profit from this writing.

**A/N: **Okay, so I have been sitting on this story for almost 3 weeks now. Each time I went to edit it, I ended up adding another 500 words and changing the direction multiple times, so while I'm not entirely happy with it, I've decided to go ahead and post it instead of stressing over it. I tried to smoothly integrate the past and the present without dropping too heavily into flashback-mode, so I hope it doesn't confuse anyone.

Please let me know what you think.

* * *

><p>"Ms. Swan, come back to bed."<p>

The gruff, sleepy voice of the Mayor reaches her ears from her current position, which happens to be in the middle of the bedroom doorway, facing out into the hall.

With her back still to the form resting peacefully on the bed, the same bed that had previously been rocked to hell and back a mere couple of hours prior, Emma turns her head slightly in Regina's direction.

"I don't…" Emma takes a deep breath before continuing, "I don't think I can do this."

There is a short pause before Emma hears the subtle shifting of sheets. A flash of lightning briefly illuminates the room and within Emma's periphery she sees Regina has sat up somewhat, her elbows supporting her upper body. Her sleep-reddened eyes gaze questioningly at Emma.

"You've never expressed a problem with our little arrangement before," Regina states, her voice quickly losing its sleepy tinge. Emma can hear the slight annoyance in Regina's tone, barely brushing upon accusatory.

"It's not the _arrangement_ that I have a problem with," Emma grounds out in response.

She turns away from the Mayor again, tilting her head and glancing down, deciding to fidget with the hem of her shirt, which she now notices is on inside out. She sighs, her irritation increasing.

"Well? Are you going to spit it out sometime tonight, Ms. Swan, or do I need to cancel my morning meetings?"

Her shirt forgotten, Emma turns around abruptly, glaring. The glare softens against her will as her eyes take in the form of Regina. Even with her hair mussed and her eyes tinged with red, she oozes sex. That probably has more to do with the fact that Regina's position has her chest jutting out, the top sheet barely hanging onto the swell of her breasts, which Emma knows are bare beneath. Emma would bet Mr. Gold everything she had that Regina was laying that way on purpose.

Emma quickly refocuses, Regina's knowing smirk doing more things to her body than she'd care to admit.

"I have a problem with… staying over," Emma states rather quietly.

Sleeping over at someone's house after a night of debauchery was unfamiliar territory for her. The feeling of another warm body lying next to her without sexual intent was uncomfortably foreign and she couldn't quite quell the slight sense of panic that had overtaken her as she had lain in Regina's bed. Of course, it wasn't as if the other woman was sleeping on top of her. No, after asking Emma to stay, Regina had rolled over onto the opposite side of the bed and made herself comfortable before drifting off to sleep.

Emma had been too thrown off in the change of routine to have even considered trying to fall asleep. She had lain stock-still on her back while a multitude of thoughts ran through her brain. She couldn't understand what had changed between her and Regina. Why would she invite her to stay the night? Falling asleep together is just… not what they do. Their routine consists of great fucking followed by a quick dismissal a couple of times a week. Simple enough, Emma thought. She was content with it, Regina seemed to be content with it. But then tonight happened.

Her wrist still burned hot from when Regina had grabbed it to pull her back into bed, with a quiet request to stay. She had stolen a few glances in Regina's direction as the other woman had fallen asleep and then she had progressed to burning holes into the back of her head as she had gone further into thought.

Was this just another ploy with which to torture her with? Surely Regina knew that she was not the sleepover type, no matter how tired she was. Or was this Regina's way of telling her something… that maybe she wanted more out of this… more out of Emma?

And with that last thought, Emma had felt a rush of panic flood her body, from the top of her head to the very tips of her toes. Her heart rate seemed to triple and her heart itself had felt like it was about to beat right out of her chest. She had looked away from Regina then and instead focused her eyes on the ceiling, taking deep, steady breaths. After a few long moments, she had managed to calm most of her system down.

Her thoughts, on the other hand, continued to run on overdrive. Was Regina seriously considering expanding their relationship beyond sex? Why would she do that? What changed? Could Regina possibly have feelings for another human being that amounted to more than just utilizing their emotions for her own selfish agenda? And what if she could? Could Emma - would Emma - allow Regina to carry their… whatever this was between them… to another plane? Could she handle it? Could either of them handle it? Another thought struck Emma.

Was she, Emma, willing to try?

That thought alone seemed to cease Emma's breathing almost instantly before her mind had tried to backpedal. This was ridiculous. This was Regina Mills she was thinking about. The only emotions shared between her and Emma were anger and resentment with a side helping of lust. Nothing more.

But she couldn't stop the upsurge of conflicting feelings that seemed to well up inside of her chest. The possibility of them being more brought out fear, confusion, apprehension. But when Emma looked deeper, she knew that there was also a sense of longing buried deep down under all of the trepidation and panic.

Of course she desired the other woman; she knew that she herself was desired as well in return. But to actually yearn for her, for the Mayor, the so-called Evil Queen, perturbed her to an extent.

She realized she couldn't keep lying in Regina's bed; her thoughts feeling as if they were quickly, heavily trying to close in on her, ready to suffocate her to death next to the woman who was the cause of it all.

So she had slinked out of bed before quietly trying to locate and slip on her clothes. She had just made it to the threshold of the doorway before she felt herself stop. Here she was, fleeing… running away from something that might not even exist. She could hear the faint whispers of her mind's previous debate in her ears as she stood frozen, not a sound heard except for her steady breathing and the muffled pitter-patter of the rain against the windows. And then…

"Ms. Swan, come back to bed."

Now here she is, standing in front of Regina while chewing one corner of her lip after having told her in a somewhat vague fashion that she was not comfortable with sleeping over.

Regina's gazing at her with a curious expression on her face. Emma is gazing right back while struggling to keep her eyes from drifting lower.

"Is that what all this is about? You're homesick?" Regina mocks.

A frustrated sigh emits from Emma's lips. She can't help but wonder if it would ever be possible for Regina to hold a civil conversation with her outside of public scrutiny. "It's not that… I just—"

"Because I think I know a way to fix that," Regina deftly interrupts, a wicked grin spreading upon her face. She pushes off her elbows and scoots back until her upper body is resting against the headboard. The movement causes the sheet to slide down her body, revealing her breasts. Emma half-heartedly attempts to look away, but the moonlight streaming through the window and the near-constant flashes of lightning seem to turn Regina into a makeshift neon sign.

Regina drapes her arms over one of the horizontal bars embedded in the headboard, pushing her chest out even further. Emma has half a mind to tell her how full of herself she is if she thinks that's enough to sway her off-topic. But Emma's suddenly dry lips tell otherwise as she subconsciously swipes her tongue out to moisten them. If there was one downfall (among many) of Emma and Regina having sex, it was that Regina had learned most, if not all, of her weaknesses.

Yes, Regina had learned rather quickly over the weeks that Emma Swan was indeed a breast woman.

Regina's short, deep chuckle brings Emma out of her momentary lapse and she closes her eyes to get herself back on track. Once she's gathered some control over herself, she wills her eyes open, but looks off to the side to avoid any distractions.

"I'm not homesick. I just… I don't… do this," she finishes lamely, gesturing towards the bed with her hand.

"Do what, dear?" Regina still has grin on her face, but it looks like her lips are struggling not to morph into a line of impatience.

"Sleepover," Emma finally spits out, "sharing a bed that is not currently being used for fucking."

Regina's expression goes momentarily blank before a small, somewhat condescending smile takes up its usual residence.

"Really, Ms. Swan, if you weren't comfortable sharing a bed with me you should have spoken up. I do have guest rooms, you know. Or you could have just slept on the floor. Who am I to say what you're accustomed to?"

Emma rolls her eyes. "You're missing the point. Why did you want me to stay over in the first place? The agreement was that I come over a couple nights a week, we fuck, I leave, the end," she ends in a huff.

Regina's eyes narrow imperceptibly before she crosses her long legs at the ankle underneath the sheet, depicting a superior posture that Emma knows she's using to make Emma feel like a child.

"Ms. Swan, in case it has escaped your notice, while we were busy _not sleeping_ in this very bed, the weather took a rather nasty turn." Another lightning bolt flashes across the sky, illuminating the room briefly in a murky blue hue, seeming to further propel Regina's point.

"Would you rather I had kicked you out? Let you kill yourself driving that deathtrap on roads that are more than likely flooded?" Regina asks, her voice hard. If Emma didn't know any better, she'd think that Regina seemed a little hurt that Emma didn't first think of her as a hospitable host.

Emma glances out of the window, and then turns her eyes back to Regina.

Sex. That is what it all comes down to between her and Regina. Sweaty, filthy, sex.

Emma feels a sense of relief at first, choosing to hold onto that feeling instead of acknowledging the one lurking beneath its surface.

Disappointment.

She feels her face heat up slightly as a light blush inevitably spreads across her cheeks. She feels foolish. Why would she even consider the idea of them being more? Because of… what, Regina letting her sleep in her bed for a night? Emma hates herself for letting her thoughts get away from her, but she hates herself even more for the tiny part of herself that might have even looked forward to the challenge.

Regina furrows her brow a little upon seeing the differing expressions flitting across Emma's face in the span of 10 seconds.

"You didn't think I was trying to develop this little tryst into something more substantial, did you?" Regina asks skeptically. Emma can hear the trace of amusement in her voice and before she can think of something to say, Regina continues.

"I'm surprised you didn't leave right away if that was the case, knowing you and your debilitating fear of anything even resembling commitment. Unless…"

Emma feels her eyes close as she realizes that Regina is about to hit the nail on the head.

"…you actually _entertained_ the idea…" Regina's voice is shaking slightly with suppressed laughter.

"Is that what it was? My, the fact that you stayed-" she glances at the clock, "- almost 2 hours tells quite a lot, Ms. Swan."

"It doesn't tell anything, Madam Mayor," Emma says, finally speaking up, her eyes opening. Her mouth opens to form more words but is cut off by Regina who chooses to ignore her and continues as if she was never interrupted in the first place.

"Tells quite a lot, indeed. Oh, dear, the conclusions your mind jumps to. If only I could have been a fly on the wall during _that_ thought-process," Regina carries on easily. "I mean, I can only imagine what all went through your head. Makes me quite curious."

Emma takes a steadying breath, willing Regina to just shut her mouth.

"Tell me, Ms. Swan… in that highly imaginative brain of yours, did you go so far as to picture me cooking you breakfast in the morning? Did you envision yourself laughing joyously with Henry at the family table as we all shared our love for each other? Hmm? Or was it more intimate than that? Did you imagine us snuggling?" Regina spits the last word out with cruel delight, her tone laced with ridicule.

"Enlighten me, dear," she pauses, almost thoughtfully, "… was I the big spoon?"

Emma stares directly at Regina and feels herself toughen, harden, under Regina's mocking gaze. She should have known that this woman was nothing if not cruel when it came to others and their emotions. She could feel her hands clench into fists at her side and her breathing increase.

Regina looks upon Emma's newfound demeanor with a leer in her eyes.

Both of them continue to stare at the other for a long moment, tension sparking the air, before Regina finally sighs.

"So…" she says nonchalantly, wetting her lips, "are you going to run away from the mean, scary woman who hurt your feelings or are we going to fuck, Ms. Swan?"

Emma feels Regina's eyes rake over her form as she leans further back into the headboard, and Emma feels almost violated as her nipples harden in response to the once-over. Damn her.

Regina had greatly over-exaggerated Emma's thoughts on the matter of their relationship - albeit on purpose just to mock her - but it quite helpfully reminded Emma of how much she loathed the other woman and she knew she wouldn't dare "entertain the idea" again. Whether that was Regina's plan, she didn't know. What she did know was that there was no way in hell she was leaving; she had a point to prove. She wouldn't let Regina think she was soft.

"It's hard to hurt something that doesn't exist, Madam Mayor. But thanks for reminding me just how full of yourself you really are," Emma responds smoothly.

Regina only quirks an eyebrow in response.

Emma knows that the time for talking is over, so she walks to the end of the bed and strips off her shirt, the chill quickly biting at her bare breasts, before shoving her jeans and underwear off, a little more forcefully than intended. She looks up and sees that Regina has her damnable smirk still in place.

Emma keeps her face blank as she crawls over the end of the bed, reaching out to rip the sheet out of the way and uncover Regina's still crossed legs. She quickly shoves one leg aside to uncross them and grabs onto it behind the knee before roughly yanking, causing Regina's torso to hit the mattress rather ungracefully as Emma hovers over her. A low sound escapes the back of Regina's throat before she immediately rakes her nails up Emma's toned stomach and grabs onto her breasts, being none too gentle as she looks up at Emma almost with a sneer before reaching up and nipping once at her lower lip. Emma lets go of Regina's leg to push her back down onto the bed, scooting back a little until Regina's breasts are almost at her eye level. Regina's hands are still toying with Emma's chest and she allows it for a few brief moments before grabbing onto Regina's wrists and pinning them beneath one hand above her head, causing Regina's chest to thrust outward.

Regina seems to take this as a challenge and responds by wrapping a leg around Emma's waist and using the leverage to rub her pussy on Emma's stomach. Emma can't contain the groan that comes out as she feels how utterly _wet_ Regina is against her. Feeling Regina and her wetness sliding back and forth across the planes of her stomach has Emma thrusting down into the mattress, seeking friction of her own.

This earns another light chuckle from Regina, a look of smugness plastered on her face as she continues to grind on Emma's body, spreading her wetness over the woman. Emma only briefly glances at her before taking advantage of the breasts currently within distance and sucking a nipple into her mouth. She flicks her tongue against it repeatedly, feeling Regina start to grind more forcefully against her as her breathing picks up, the movements making her nipple scrape against Emma's teeth.

Regina bites her lip, but Emma still hears the whimper that fights its way out of the stubborn Mayor. She only relishes the sound for a moment before she moves on to the other nipple, giving it one swipe of her tongue before unexpectedly biting down. Regina lets out a small, startled cry and Emma feels, more than hears, the sharp intake of breath as Emma doesn't lessen her hold and stays latched onto her.

Regina starts to slow her hips as well as tone down the intensity. The movements involved in thrusting against Emma makes her feel as if her breast is in a tug-of-war with a steel trap. She can't receive the pleasure without, in turn, receiving the pain. Regina's never been afraid of pain, has even welcomed it, but it's been awhile since she's satisfied that particular urge and Emma's teeth suddenly upon her without warning causes her to grimace.

After a few moments, Regina is offered a reprieve as Emma relinquishes her teeth's hold and replaces them with her tongue. Emma hears the "Mmm" that leaves Regina's mouth as she laves the bruised nipple in the hot moisture of her mouth. Emma opens her mouth wider to encompass more of Regina's breast as she sucks and licks, letting her teeth scrape occasionally.

Regina knows that while Emma can be aggressive in bed, depending on her mood, it's nothing that's too exaggerated and so she feels safe in moving her hips faster again, seeking more friction against Emma without the stinging pull of her teeth.

Emma languidly slides her mouth down one side of Regina's breast, placing an open-mouthed kiss in the valley between before continuing her wet trail to the other breast. She hears sounds of approval from above and the feel of Regina pushing against the hold she has on her wrists. Emma laughs to herself because she knows Regina is just itching to grab ahold of her hair and either force more of her breast upon Emma or steer her lower.

As Emma takes her time repeating her pattern of licking and sucking, she hears Regina sigh contentedly, almost restlessly, and takes that as her cue to bite down again even harder than before. Immediately, Emma feels Regina's chest surge upward as her hips grind to a halt and a loud hiss bursts forth from her clenched teeth.

"Emma," Regina warns, her voice twisting into a tone of menace and frustration. She lowers her chest back down, another hiss escaping as she tries to settle faster than Emma's mouth will allow, the pull of her teeth acting as a none-too-subtle reminder of who was in control.

Emma knows that she should probably back off, Regina resorting to using her first name tells her that much, but she keeps her hold, still feeling a little vindictive from Regina's earlier words. She uses the advantage to repeatedly swipe her tongue against the captured nipple.

Regina lets out a slightly disgruntled huff as it becomes apparent that she will be ignored, at least in the conversational aspect. The tail-end of the huff gives way to a breathy moan as the pleasure of Emma's tongue makes itself known.

If Emma's mouth could properly form a smirk from her position, it would do so now after feeling Regina timidly start thrusting against her again.

She brings her free hand down to cup Regina's ass and suddenly pulls her against her more fully, barely giving Regina time to coordinate before working her up to an aggressive speed, causing Regina to cry out.

"Oh…godddd," quickly follows as the sounds coming out of Regina's mouth start to increase. The pain in her breast coupled with the pleasure of her clit rubbing against the hot, slick skin of the sheriff forms a delicious counter-balance that Regina isn't sure she wants more or less of.

As Emma further speeds up her movements, forcing Regina to grind even harder against her, Regina's body seems to move on its own as it syncs with Emma's, her legs wrapping more tightly around her body as she struggles to hold onto what's left of her composure.

Regina feels herself getting close, so close, and with a rush she frees her wrists from Emma's one-handed grip and tangles one hand in her hair while the other flies to Emma's back, her nails digging into scalp and skin, hanging on for dear life as her body thrusts wildly, needing more.

Emma uses her now free hand and snakes it down to Regina's center. She allows her hand to glide back and forth through the slick folds a few times, savoring the whimpers torn from the other woman, before dipping them lower and thrusting two fingers into Regina.

A strangled moan tears its way out of Regina that never fully dissipates as Emma uses her skilled fingers to continuously pound into her again and again, not once relenting in their ferocity. Panting and sporadic moans fill the room and Regina throws her head back as she clings even harder to Emma. Emma decides to go for broke and starts pumping three fingers into Regina at a brutal pace. Regina is barely able to keep up, her hips rising and falling violently. Part of Regina wants this to last forever while another part is begging for this to end because it feels so good it hurts. The heat of Emma's mouth on her breast along with the pulsing, painful throb accompanied with it; the feel of her nails digging sharply into her ass; the hammering stroke of her fingers fucking her into next week…

It isn't long before Emma feels Regina tense up as her nails leave what she suspects to be gouges into her skin. Emma keeps her pace as Regina arches her back and opens her mouth in a silent cry. She's pulsing so hard around Emma's fingers that she's surprised she's able to thrust at all.

As Regina comes, Emma finally releases her hold on her nipple and shifts up slightly to bury her head in Regina's neck, alternating between licking and biting, not able to quell the primal urge to mark her where others might see. What is probably only a few moments feels like forever as Regina's hips gradually stop twitching and she starts breathing again. Emma lets her catch her breath before slowly removing her fingers, wiping them none too politely on Regina's thigh.

She keeps her head in the crook of Regina's neck, feeling oddly blissful even though she wasn't the one that just came all over the sheets.

Regina barely feels the moisture being smeared on her as she slackens her hold on Emma, her nails no longer digging into her, but instead resting gently against the slightly damp skin.

Regina is able to start taking deeper breaths and works on trying to slow her heart rate back down, her eyes drifting closed as she lets her body recover. Emma feels the swell of the rising and falling of the chest beneath her, and barely notices as her own breathing attunes to the older woman's.

Regina knows she won't be able to lull herself into sleep with the weight of the woman on top of her, so she allows thoughts to drift in and out.

She should never have asked Emma to stay; she should have known that the stupid girl would be too out of her element to take a simple act of hospitality at face value.

She thinks back to what she said to Emma. It was cruel, she was aware. But she knew she had to say those things. Even as she had felt her face contort into an expression of ridicule, her tone become that of derision, she knew that she was doing what was best for Emma.

She knew the blonde's type: lost, alone, searching. Having that longing that tortured souls usually attained after a life filled with hardships. Regina was aware that, with a little work, she could easily make Emma Swan fall for her. While that influence made her feel powerful, it also scared her.

She would delightfully take Emma's body for her own, to manipulate and coerce to her every whim. But… she would not take her love.

She would not lure Emma into her blackened, shriveled heart only to poison her with the venom contained inside. Regina knew that she was empty, hollow, and incapable of being on the same level as Emma. She would merely indulge in the mutual, physical want between her and the other woman; the desire being too strong to deny herself the pleasure of the enigma that was the Bostonian.

Regina realizes that were it anyone else, she wouldn't give a second thought about manipulating them further into her grasp if they were stupid enough to offer themselves to her. She does not know what makes Emma Swan so special, why she feels the need to protect Emma from her selfish clutches. Regina chooses not to dwell on it whenever these questions arise, almost afraid of the answers she might unearth.

Sex. That is all there is, and all there ever will be between her and Emma.

When Regina feels that her heart has stopped trying to beat its way out of her chest, she finally opens her eyes – their sight taking in the expansive back of the sheriff on which her hands are currently resting. She takes in the harsh lines she has left upon the blonde, and a brief thought flits through her mind of running her fingertips soothingly over the marks, but she thinks better of it – common sense winning out.

She removes her hands from Emma altogether, waiting for her to roll off of her like she normally does and take off.

A minute goes by with no grand movement or words from the blonde and it's then that Regina notices the steady, gentle wisps of breath against her neck, the peaceful rise and fall of the woman's back as she rests atop her.

Regina can't help the small smirk creeping onto her face and, after a long pause, she returns her hands to smooth skin, allowing herself to indulge in just this brief bit of intimacy before Emma awakens and they are back to their old routine.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I'm not sure if this story merits any continuation or not as I personally feel it works better as a one shot, but I'm interested in hearing your thoughts on the matter. If I do decide to continue it, it will more than likely be awhile before I churn out a chapter update, or a form of sequel. Any and all comments or suggestions are very welcome.

Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **I want to thank everyone for taking the time to leave their feedback for the previous chapter; I got more responses than I ever expected and I appreciated all of them. Almost all of the reviewers wanted me to continue and as such, here we are.

I considered doing a one-shot sequel, but have decided to draw the storyline out instead. I realize this will take away somewhat from the totality of the first chapter, as I did originally write that as a one-shot, but I hope to make up for it in the long run. Also the timeline for this chapter is a little jumbled, but I put in breakers to hopefully prevent any confusion. Once again, thank you for all of the reviews and alerts.

* * *

><p>"Madam Mayor."<p>

"Sheriff."

The acknowledgement is brief, Regina only glancing fleetingly up from her paperwork at the blonde before continuing to scribble out tedious notes.

"You, uh, wanted to see me?" Emma asks, just inside the doorway of Regina's office.

Regina can sense Emma's impatient tone and has to resist the urge to roll her eyes in response. Instead she looks up with, what Emma interprets to be, a rather bored expression on her face.

"You do realize that it is common courtesy for one to knock before entering, don't you?"

Emma lets a sigh escape as she realizes that Regina isn't just going to spit out the information so she can be on her way. She could take the smartass-route and back up the couple of feet to rap her knuckles on the door, but decides to take a different course of action.

"I figured we were long past 'common courtesies', Madam Mayor," Emma retorts. She glances down at Regina's sweater, beneath which lay the marks she had her very fingers on a few hours prior, then moves her eyes back up slightly to land on Regina's neck. She finds herself a little disappointed that Regina had decided to go with the turtleneck after all.

Regina would be lying if she said she wasn't just a little bit taken aback by Emma's bluntness. She thought the blonde would sooner walk into traffic than allude to their actions in the bedroom publicly. She guesses that after this morning, she shouldn't be surprised by the blonde's irregular behavior. But obviously, she thinks, Ms. Swan still has something to prove. Bruised egos really did make for the best material.

"And yet I can get you to say 'please' anytime I want," Regina fires back, making Emma meet her gaze again.

"Well, I'm not completely without manners," Emma shoots back with nonchalance, refusing to let Regina make her squirm, make her feel awkward. So far Emma thinks she has played it very cool in regards to what happened last night. And if anyone asked Regina, she would be inclined to agree.

Regina makes a slight "Hm" sound in response, a corner of her mouth lifting slightly, before looking down at her paperwork yet again.

The fact that she and Emma were even referencing their activities at all was unusual. Outside of the bedroom, neither of them spoke of what they did or shined any type of light on it with body language or looks. It was as if they weren't fucking at all, like the idea didn't exist outside of the bedroom of Regina Mills. They preferred it that way. In their eyes, they were just two consenting adults with a mutual attraction that they indulged in twice a week. They'd use the opportunities to relieve stress, have a little fun, or take their frustration out on each other. It was the latter more often than not.

When all was said and done, Regina's bedroom was basically Vegas. What happened in there – anything said, anything done – stayed in there.

So while Regina was surprised at the break in custom, she knew it wouldn't last long before they were falling back into old step.

"So what'd you want?" Emma asks, somewhat brusquely, shoving her hands into her back pockets.

"Have you decided on a deputy yet?" Regina cuts to the chase, continuing to fill out forms.

"This again?"

"Yes, Ms. Swan," Regina looks up, "this again. Until you make a decision I will continue to ask you the question. When I have grown tired of doing so, I will find someone myself, and trust me, I'm becoming quite weary."

Emma runs a hand through her hair. Regina has been on her for weeks to hire someone, but she's been putting it off. She can do the job just fine on her own but Regina refuses to hear that argument anymore. The truth is she misses Graham. After his passing, she took it as an honor to wear his badge, and while she didn't necessarily feel that she was worthy enough for his position as Sheriff, she certainly felt she was a better choice than that slime Sidney. Emma just knows that if Regina chooses her deputy for her, then that's who she'll end up with: Deputy Lapdog.

As much as she's grown used to the idea of being Sheriff, having a deputy will solidify the fact that that is truly what she is. Not a temporary replacement until Graham comes waltzing back in from the grave, but a permanent solution with more responsibility on her shoulders. She hated that word… permanent. When she worked under Graham as deputy, she knew she'd have the ability to quit without there being any noticeable repercussions. Now that she's Sheriff, she knows that's not possible. More people are dependent on her and even look up to her. She had sworn to herself that no matter how long she had to stay here, she wouldn't get tied into this quiet community, not that she thought she had anything to worry about. But even she was surprised at how smooth the transition was from her being an initial stranger to Sheriff Swan in such a short period.

Since when did she become so ingrained in this stupid town?

"Fine. I'll start interviews next week."

Regina purses her lips and glares piercingly at her.

"Tomorrow then, happy?" She throws her arms up in the air, not able to keep the frustration out of her voice. She did not want to spend her Friday at the station the entire day doing nothing but sitting on her ass and listening to applicants. At the same time, she knew that Regina would immediately call in Sidney and slap a badge on him if Emma walked out without complete concession.

"That's certainly better," Regina replies, giving her an empty smile before her pen starts its movement across the paper again.

"Anything else?" Emma asks. Surely Regina didn't call her over here just for that.

"No, Ms. Swan, I believe that would be all. Now if you don't mind, I do have some important work to do."

"You could have told me all this over the phone, you know," Emma replies after a pause.

"I suppose I could have," Regina says dismissively. Emma feels a strong lick of annoyance surge through her stomach at not only Regina's words, but her tone.

"It was a waste of my time and gas to come over here and – ,"

"Not my problem, Sheriff Swan," Regina interrupts, a challenging look in her eye as she peers up at Emma.

Emma stares right back, feeling the tension gather around them.

After a long moment, Emma is the first to break eye-contact, not bothering to make it again as she can feel the smugness gracing the Mayor's face from where she's standing.

"Then I guess I'll get back to the work you took me away from and leave you to the hard task of dotting your i's and crossing your t's, Madam Mayor," Emma finally says as she makes her way towards the office doors.

"Oh, yes, I assume eating bear claws while watching the cell bars rust must take up a lot of your time, Sheriff. Please, by all means, be on your way," Regina responds. Emma glowers but says nothing as she stalks out.

Emma has to stop herself from slamming the entrance doors shut as she leaves the building; thoughts of Regina being a high-grade bitch occupying her brain as she gets into her car, heading back to the station that she had only been at for a couple of hours this morning before Regina had called.

She knows the reason Regina is being more uptight than usual, if this morning was anything to go by. But that was no reason to make her go out of her way to drive up there for all of a 2 minute conversation, take away her Friday, and then degrade her job performance. She knew Regina's behavior wasn't out of the ordinary, but it just agitated her more today.

_**A Few Hours Previously~**_

The first thing Emma hears is the sound of birds chirping. What probably sounds beautiful and cheery to most sounds like high-pitched squawking to her and she feels her face contort into a scowl as she tries to drift off back to sleep, making a mental note to tell Mary Margaret not to throw seeds out anymore. That woman and her damned birds were going to be the death of her.

She is almost succumbing to sleep again when she feels a slight rocking motion, as if she's on a boat. Adjusting, she changes her position so that instead of lying on her back, she's now on her side, facing the window, letting her foot dangle over the edge of the bed as she releases a contented breath. She is the perfect image of serene.

Suddenly, she feels something – a hand most likely – shove her roughly in the back with a murmured, "Got to get to work," said hoarsely above her. Emma, not used to being awoken so abruptly, feels herself jerk and her elbow flies back and connects with something soft, yet solid.

She hears a grunt of pain and before she can properly turn her head to see what it is that she hit, she feels a hand clasp tightly around her arm and yank her over onto her back. She surprisingly finds herself looking up at the Mayor of all people. She then hears Regina's voice ground out, "Ms. Swan, get out of my bed. Now."

Emma can do nothing but blink stupidly up at Regina, not comprehending where exactly in the hell she is yet.

"We both have places we need to be," Regina finishes, releasing her grip on Emma and getting out of bed herself.

A breathy "Oh" comes out of Emma in response, her brain still not completely registering her surroundings. She blinks some more and a more prominent "_Oh!_" escapes as she realizes that this is, in fact, not her room. Of course, she thinks, why would the Mayor be in her bedroom? She looks around and sees that Regina has already disappeared.

Her eyes pass by the clock as she glances around, "Shit!", and she realizes that she needs to get going or she's going to be late for work.

"Damn it, you should have woke me up!" She yells, not too sure where Regina went, as she rolls briskly out of bed and starts fumbling for her clothes, still not fully awake.

Emma can't believe that after all of the shit they – or more pointedly, she – went through about not wanting to stay over, she went and fell asleep on the woman. God, Regina must feel so smug right now, she thinks to herself. Emma gets her jeans fastened when another thought strikes her. Should Regina be smug? Or should she, Emma, be smug? Who won? Did someone win? Emma slides a hand tiredly over her face as she realizes that she didn't get enough sleep for this bullshit and would have to process everything later.

"Since it appears to have already slipped your mind, Ms. Swan, I DID wake you up," Regina replies rather irritated. From the direction of her voice, Emma guesses that she is in the bathroom.

"Remind me to not ever do that again unless encased in full body armor," she continues. "You're lucky you didn't take my eye out."

"Well maybe if you didn't prod me awake like some sort of cow, you wouldn't have taken a hit to the boob in the first place," Emma states, her own agitation growing while she searches fruitlessly around the bedroom for her bra, not knowing whether to be mad at herself or not for even being here.

"And I meant that you should have woke me when I fell asleep to begin with," she adds, choosing to blame Regina further.

"Oh, but wouldn't that have ruined your whole plan to prove to me that you could sleep in the same bed as me without getting emotionally attached?" Regina responds easily.

Emma's jaw drops at the words. That was a low-blow. "That wasn't my plan! I don't have anything to prove to you." That really hadn't been her plan, she had honestly dozed off. As far as not having anything to prove to Regina, well… that may have been a small lie.

"Really, Ms. Swan, you – OH MY GOD!"

The shriek causes Emma to halt her search immediately and look towards the bathroom. Not sure she wants to find out the reason behind it. That wasn't a scared 'oh my god!', that was an I'm-going-to-murder-the-very-next-person-I-see 'oh my god!'.

Emma knows she can't run out of the house as she is currently only in a pair of jeans, but also because she is afraid of running smack into Henry. She glances at the window, her scowl returning, knowing that that's where she'll have to make her exit once she is actually clothed. Leaving out that way instead of the front door always made her feel more… cheap? Trashy? In Emma's mind there were many ways to describe it, none of them on par with much class.

The door to the bathroom is flung open and Regina - still nude, Emma notes - makes a bee-line for her.

"When in the hell did you do this?" Regina spits out while pointing at her neck.

Emma gapes for a few seconds at the… well, she wants to call it a hickey, but it looks more like someone has punched her in the neck.

"Oh, wow," is all that Emma manages to get out as she leans in for a closer look.

"'Oh, wow'? That is all you have to say?" Regina's voice has taken on a shrill quality that is quite unbecoming.

"Well, what do you want me to say?" Emma's voice takes on a mocking tone before she continues with, "It happened during the throes of passion?"

"This isn't funny. I told you before we started all of this that you are not to mark me where it will be visible! Unlike you, my hair isn't long enough to cover such acts! Unlike_ you_, _I_ possess some level of class to not have to worry about this kind of predicament."

"Just wear a turtleneck! You won't be able to wear a blouse anyway!" Emma cuts in, her own voice rising as she gestures to Regina's chest.

As Regina looks down, so does Emma and it's in this moment that she realizes that she's never actually been present at the aftermath of one of their more anger-laced sessions before, or any of their sessions actually. Emma always leaves as soon as they're both spent, so any marks that she may have inflicted upon Regina go unseen. By the time Emma sees her unclothed again a few days later, everything has mostly faded. But she has a feeling that these blemishes will still be present come their next go-around.

But for now, this is the first time that Emma is able to get an up close and personal view of her handiwork and she can't help but take a moment to just… appreciate it. She's vaguely aware of Regina berating her again, but tunes her out as she takes in the end result of their night.

She sees that both of Regina's nipples are bruised, unsurprisingly, and that she has slight purple-ish marks in the general area of her breasts where Emma's teeth had wandered. She glances further down, not seeing anything there, but knowing that if she were to turn Regina around, she would see the 5 small contusions on her ass from where her fingers had been. Her eyes travel back up to where she had none-too-gently gone after Regina's neck and she feels a slight pang of guilt at that. They did have an agreement about visibility and she had broken it.

Without thinking, Emma reaches up and softy touches the tips of fingers to the spot on her neck, slowly running them down the length of it – a small frown forming on her face.

Regina stops talking almost immediately, but does nothing else, choosing to watch Emma's expressions instead, as she so often finds herself doing lately. She wouldn't be so bold as to call Emma's action a caress, more like taking in the damage caused, but she will not deny that this is the gentlest anyone has touched her in a long, long time. At that thought, she has to fight the urge to clear her throat, break Emma out of her reverie.

Emma passes her fingertips over the bruise one more time before dragging them lower, softly running them over the swell of Regina's breasts as she traces every mark left. Regina can't help the slight flinch as Emma lightly skims across her nipples, causing them to harden.

Unlike the frown Emma wore before when touching the bruise on her neck, Emma's mouth is gradually forming into that of a smirk as she continually roves her fingers over Regina's breasts.

Emma doesn't know why, but instead of feeling guilty at the marks here, she feels a sense of… pride. It's almost as if in that instant she is gaining back an old confidence, something she had lost after being taken off guard and dragged into this town.

Seeing Regina in this state makes her think of Boston, of the women she would fuck between jobs, hell sometimes during jobs. Regina was certainly more sophisticated than them, but deep down they were all the same: something for Emma to pass the time with. What caused her to initially think differently of the Mayor, she doesn't know. What she does know is that although Regina may be more refined than what she was used to fucking, she was no different than the women she used in her previous life.

It is with something akin to arrogance that Emma takes her hand away and just gazes at Regina's body.

Regina Mills, the very epitome of structure, class, and grandeur is standing in front of her with nothing but the dirty, cheap marks of Emma Swan upon her.

"Look at you. Not even sorry for what you've done," Regina murmurs, a curious expression on her face.

"Being sorry implies wanting forgiveness," Emma replies as her gaze drifts back up to meet Regina's.

"And if there is one thing you seek from me, it is surely not forgiveness," Regina states quietly.

They stare at each other for a moment longer before Emma goes in search of her shirt – having all but given up on ever finding her bra – and boots.

Regina feels like she would be stating the obvious by finding Emma's behavior this morning to be… unexpected. That she hadn't flung herself out of the window the moment she realized where she was had to be one of the smaller surprises.

She had expected Emma to be wrought in awkward turmoil upon waking: stumbling over her words, being annoyingly flustered, and just a mess in general before taking to avoiding her for a few days until they'd meet again Sunday night where she would slide back into her element after a few encouraging touches and no mentions of sleepovers.

Regina had humiliated her last night and instead of toppling out of the window this morning like some discomfited fool, Emma had stayed and even took the time to admire the aftermath.

Regina wasn't an idiot, she didn't take Emma's attention as a notion of intimacy. She saw the change come over the blonde, saw that certain spark that she used to have return. Emma seemed to regain more than just her element then.

Regina was unsure of how to react. Emma went from being mildly predictable to even more of a conundrum. Regina hated how contradictory her own thoughts were in regards to the Sheriff. She found her to be typical but also a puzzle at the same time. And Regina had a love/hate relationship with puzzles. If they weren't easily figured out, she threw them away in search of simpler ones. Only rarely would she take the time to try to solve the hidden mysteries buried under the layer of hints and clues. More often than not, she found that it wasn't worth it.

Regina notices that Emma has become fully dressed while she was in thought and goes back to the topic at hand.

"On another note, Ms. Swan," Regina continues, "what are we going to do about your… overexcitement?" She gestures at her neck, her glare making its return.

Emma throws open the window before turning back to Regina and shrugging.

"Not my problem, Madam Mayor."

With that she slides easily out of the window and makes her escape.

Regina's mouth opens, but the blonde has already jumped smoothly from the dwelling. She gives the window one last glare before heading back into the bathroom to continue getting ready for work, cursing Emma's name throughout.

As Emma lands clumsily on the grass outside of the Mayor's house, she can't help but feel a slight sense of exhilaration. She jogs through the muddied grounds to her car, knowing she'd have to hurry to Mary-Margaret's place to shower and change if she didn't want to be too incredibly late.

On the drive there, she finds that her mood is starting to dampen slightly. A certain reality starts to push on her mind and it's getting harder to keep it at bay, no matter how loud she blasts the radio. She had done it. She had stayed over. Shared a bed with someone. With Regina. A person she hated.

Even though it might not mean much to others, staying the night with someone who she had fucked was a monumental step for her. But it was also an empty one as she knew it wasn't of any significance. It was an act that she had always seen as intimate, something you did when there was trust or some sliver of emotional attachment to the other person. She knows that what she and Regina have doesn't involve any of those sentiments and as a result, it was as if the feat she had accomplished had been stripped bare of everything that counted. Pulling up to the apartment, she feels almost robbed of that moment, of that chance to experience something that wasn't cheapened by the hollow feeling of sex.

Walking through the door, Emma sees that Mary-Margaret has already left for school. Whereas Emma was always just barely touching upon on-time when it came to her job, the other woman was always early. She makes her way to the bathroom and turns the shower on, stripping off her clothes as she gives the water time to heat up. Emma makes it a point not to look in the mirror, already knowing she probably looks like hell.

As she finally steps into the cascading heat, she hisses almost instantly as her back begins to sting. Emma forgot that she wasn't the only one to leave marks last night. The pain subsides as she continues to clean up and she once again feels her thoughts begin to drift. While she wants to shoot some of her frustration at Regina, she knows that she only has herself to blame; she was the one who fell asleep after all. It still amazes her how she was able to drift off so suddenly, so easily... Emma stops her actions mid-rinse as her eyes widen slightly. Did Regina see that as some sort of... surrender? Weakness? She suddenly wonders what was going through Regina's head while Emma was sleeping, on top of her no less.

Regina probably felt very self-righteous in that moment. She's surprised that Regina didn't wake her up a few minutes later just to gloat in her face before laughing her out of the mansion. She made it perfectly clear that she had no qualms about humiliating Emma, what was one last good dig? Unless Regina thought that waking up in her bed would suffice as shame enough. Emma's mood lifts slightly at that idea. She knows that even though Regina tried to hide it this morning, she had looked a little taken off guard at Emma's conduct. She feels that familiar feeling of confidence rise up again as she remembers the mini-epiphany she had as she realized that Regina really wasn't any different from anyone else that she screwed. She had to keep reminding herself of that.

She thinks back to how she had felt while driving to the apartment not even a half hour ago and how _pathetic_ she had been in that moment. How she had given such a high standard to something as simple and benign as sleeping next to someone was ridiculous. She visibly steels herself. She hadn't been robbed of anything, there was nothing to take.

If Regina had sensed any vulnerability in her, it would be the last.

It's not long before she's heading to the Sheriff's Station and then sitting at her desk. A couple of hours float by before her phone rings for the first time this morning, and she already has a slight idea of who it could be.

_**Present Time~**_

As Emma walks into the empty station, her bad mood still present from her visit to the Mayor's office, she spots the box of donuts she left lying on her desk for her return. She refuses to admit, even to herself, that she was going to spend her afternoon munching on a bear claw while filling out her own paperwork. She wasn't going to give Regina the satisfaction. In her anger, she stomps over to the box, grabs it off the desk, and promptly throws it in the trash.

"Hey!"

Emma jumps as she whirls around to look at the cells.

"I would have eaten those!"

"Leroy?" Emma walks briskly towards the cell he's currently occupying, utterly confused.

"Ah, hell, I'll still eat them. Hand 'em over, sister."

"What the hell are you doing here? I let you out last – ," She stops abruptly, her eyes closing in realization.

"Uh, if you're talking about last night," Leroy looks around his cell pointedly, "you didn't."

"Shit, I'm so sorry, Leroy," Emma says while going to get the keys from her desk. "I completely forgot that I was supposed to let you out at midnight. That's when your 24 hours were up, right?"

"Yep, but this means that I get hours for time served, yeah?" He responds with a grin.

"I suppose so." She unlocks the door and swings it open.

Here it was, a solid excuse for her to have left Regina's in the first place without all the baggage, and she had never even spared it a thought, too wrapped up in her own thoughts at Regina having asked her to stay. She feels that it's a bit selfish of her to think of her woes instead of Leroy's, but goddamn it, she feels like she got put through the wringer more than he did. Even if she did come out better because of it. Her thoughts are halted as she remembers something.

"Wait… if you were here this whole time, why didn't you say anything when I came in this morning?"

Leroy lumbers out of his cell before turning to look at her.

"Because it was morning."

Emma gives him a confused look.

"I was sleepin'," he tells her gruffly. "When I woke up, you weren't here, so I had nothing to do but wait until you came back and finally let me out."

Emma feels a pang of guilt deep in her gut at his words. How could she forget she had someone in a cell, let alone not notice them being within 30ft of her, even if they were sleeping? Part of her wants to blame Regina, too, for calling her away. She might have remembered him sooner otherwise.

She looks down, fidgeting with the keys. "Sorry, Leroy. I'm making for a pretty shitty Sheriff, aren't I?"

"Nah. Must've had a rough night is all, huh?"

Coming from anyone else, Emma would have taken that as a sign of concern, but with the leer he was giving her, she knew exactly what he was referring to. Not her and Regina specifically, but a night of immoral liaisons definitely seems to be on his mind.

"That," she starts walking him towards the door, "is none of your business."

"I knew it. Since you kept me here waiting and all, why not tell your good friend Leroy all about it," he suggests with a waggle of his eyebrows.

On the way to the door she grabs out the tossed box of donuts. "Um, no. But this should suffice." She shoves the box playfully at him and nudges him on out the door.

"Alright, but you know where I'll be if you ever wanna talk about it."

"Goodbye, Leroy." And with that she closes the door. Oh yeah, she thinks, she knows exactly where he'll be – the bottom of a bottle.

Emma still feels the guilt rile in her stomach at forgetting about him. She must have been more tired than she thought. In the back of her mind, she knew it was because she had been distracted moreso than tired.

Finally sitting back down at her desk, she pulls out a small notepad buried beneath various food wrappers and pens in one of her drawers and skims the names and numbers listed. She had compiled a list of everyone who had approached her about the vacant position weeks ago, but had avoided actually contacting any of them for interviews. The list itself wasn't very impressive, not a lot of people took an interest when Emma had initially announced that a new deputy position was available. It probably had more to do with the fact that Emma had only half-heartedly tried to promote this fact.

Sidney had been the first to declare himself as available for the job, confronting her before she'd even taken a breath after the announcement.

Emma easily skips over his name as she studies the others. She nods at a couple of the names and flat-out laughs after seeing Leroy's. Glancing further down the list at the bottom, she sees a name not written by her. It's rather sloppy and overlaps a little over the line, and Emma smiles wide as she reads the name 'Henry' scribbled on the notepad. That little sneak.

Emma thinks he'd make quite the cute deputy and at least that way she'd be able to spend more time with him. She can picture him wearing his little tie and badge, sitting at his desk with his feet propped up on it as he plays his video game, waiting for calls of the citizens that would need his aid.

Emma allows herself to indulge in the adorableness for a minute longer before she decides to move on. Sometimes thinking of Henry brought about a small feeling of shame. She knew she wasn't technically doing anything wrong by sleeping with Regina, considering she wasn't actually the Evil Queen that Henry liked to believe she was, but it was sometimes hard to look the kid in the eyes if he saw her the day after one of her and Regina's late nights. She knew Henry would be devastated, see Emma's actions as an act of betrayal, and shatter this image he had of her in a hero's light if he ever found out. She would die before she let him find out what she was doing with his mom, and she was sure that Regina felt the same way.

While she did feel some guilt, it wasn't enough to stop her. She was an adult with adult needs and fairytale nonsense wasn't enough to keep her from those needs. She loved Henry, more than she thought she would when she first came here, and she would be as supportive of him as she could, but she had learned long ago to keep certain facets of her life separate. The love she had for Henry didn't affect her physical endeavors with the Mayor and vice versa. What she had with Regina wasn't significant enough to cause any ripple effects in her life, so while sleeping with her on the side may be morally off-putting to some, Emma really didn't care.

It was her life after all. She might not be thrilled with how it turned out, but she'd be damned if she wasn't proud that she had made it this far. She might have eased up on old habits of running from place to place by settling in this godforsaken town and taking a job no less, but that was just a small change. It didn't mean anything.

Deep down, she knew that was a lie. Learning to care for another person, such as her son, is what kept her here. It was almost like a drug – someone needing her, loving her… the feeling that she was actually being respected instead of used.

Whenever those thoughts arose she would quickly smother them along with any other sign of weakness. This town would break her down no further.

She picks up the phone to dial Sidney's number and pick an interview time for the next day. There was no way in hell she was even considering hiring him, but she has to at least pretend to give him a shot if she's to appear unbiased.

After she's dialed the last number and scheduled the last interview, she starts gathering the forms in preparation for the onslaught.

Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

_**Friday~**_

- "So what do you feel makes you qualified for the position of Deputy?"

"Well, I can shoot a gun. My aim needs a little work, but I can get the job done."

- "So what do you feel makes you qualified for the position of Deputy?"

"First, what are the hours? Because I absolutely cannot do weekends or mornings. Oh, and not nights either, but other than that I'm available anytime you need me."

- "So what do you feel makes you qualified for the position?"

"I can clean. I'll have this place shining so bright you'll have to squint your eyes! Not that you haven't done a… wonderful job yourself, hon."

- "What makes you qualified for the position of Deputy?"

"I'm your son, duh."

"Go back to school, Henry."

- "What makes you qualified for the Deputy position?"

"Um, well, I've never had a job before, so I guess I'm not [sneeze] exactly qualified. I'm, uh, willing to learn though. But, um, please don't make me answer the phones, it [sneeze] makes me nervous. Also, I don't _officially_ have my driver's license yet, but I won't tell anyone if you don't. And, uh, I'm allergic to dust, so [sneeze] you'll have to, um, take care of that around here if I'm hired."

- "What makes you qualified for the position?"

"I know more about how this station works than anyone."

"That's because you're being brought in here every other day."

"The ladies won't be able to resist a man in uniform."

"Goodbye, Leroy."

- "What makes you qualified?"

"Emma, have you accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior?"

- "Qualifications?"

"Funny you should ask, Sheriff. I have here an 8-page essay detailing not only my character, but any and all qualifications that may be of use to you. I've also listed past credentials and as you know I am already greatly tied into the community, having run The Daily Mirror for as long as anyone can remember. As such, my transition into being deputy would no doubt be the smoothest and make the most sense," Sidney ends in a wide smile.

Emma looks down at the packet of paper he eagerly scoots towards her before glancing back up at him. _Most sense, my ass_.

"Thank you, Sidney, for the, um, essay. I'll read it over and then give you a call once I've made my decision."

Sidney seems rather surprised at the quick end to the interview, but extends his hand anyway and Emma obliges by shaking it.

"Thank you, Ms. Swan, for your time. If you have any questions, you know where to reach me. Good day," he ends with a small bow.

"Yeah, you too," she mutters, inclining her head slightly in return, feeling rather stupid.

After he's gone, Emma is finally able to indulge in a much-needed 'headdesk' moment and plasters her face on Sidney's essay.

Never again, she thinks. Out of everyone she's interviewed, Sidney, regretfully, is the only one with at least some sense of what the job entails. She has to find a way out of this; she cannot bear to see the smug look on Regina's face if she has to tell her that own personal lackey has been made deputy.

She picks her head up and looks at the clock with a sigh. At least she can salvage what's left of her afternoon for a quick bite at Granny's. She gets up, willing the circulation to return to her ass, and grabs her keys, making her way out of the office.

xxxxx

"Emma, hey! Haven't seen you around here lately," Ruby greets her with a smile.

"Been rather busy lately," Emma replies as she takes a seat at the bar of the diner.

"Yeah, you look like hell." Leave it to Ruby to be honest about her appearance.

"But no worries, this'll pick you right up," she says as she pours Emma a cup of steaming hot coffee, which Emma gratefully pulls towards her.

"Thanks. Don't suppose I could also trouble you for a sandwich?"

"Your usual?"

"Please and thank you," Emma answers with a nod.

As Ruby disappears into the back for her food, Emma kills time by swirling her coffee around in the cup, waiting for it to cool just a little.

She should just pull a name at random out of a hat, or pin their faces to a dart board and wherever the arrow lands, that person becomes deputy. She knows she should pick Sidney, but she can't, in good conscience, do it so easily. She's pretty sure Regina fed him his little essay speech word-for-word and the thought of him slithering around her office like a snake didn't sit well with her.

Emma looks up as she hears muffled shouts coming from the back, her brow furrowing, wondering if she should check it out. A few seconds later Ruby appears with her sandwich and a bright smile covering her face. The smile isn't enough to draw attention away from her bloodshot eyes and slightly smudged mascara though.

"Here you are, Emma, sorry for the wait," Ruby says apologetically, setting the plate down in front of her.

"It's fine, thank you." Ruby turns to walk away, but something pulls at Emma.

"Hey, Ruby?"

"Yes, is there anything else I can get you, Sheriff?"

"Uh, no, but… are you okay? You seem a little…," Emma trails off.

Ruby looks like she's going to feed Emma another line, but instead she takes a deep breath and lets it out with a sigh.

"Knew I should have bought the water-proof stuff," she says as she dabs under her eyes before leaning on the counter across from Emma.

"Granny and I had another fight." Ruby rolls her eyes as she continues. "I'm tired of being cooped up in here all the time with her. We argue over every little thing and I just feel like I'm about to combust, you know?"

Emma nods her head sympathetically, she knows the feeling.

"Well, maybe you guys just need some space. You could take a vacation or something. Granny has other waitresses to help out."

"If I mention the word 'vacation' to that old woman she'll take my head off. She already thinks I'm a lay-about, not to mention she'd assume I'd use the time off to use my wanton ways on the men of Storybrooke."

"Are you saying you wouldn't?" Emma asks with skepticism.

"Oh, no, I most certainly would. It just offends me that she doesn't think I'd use my wiles on the women, too," she adds with a wink.

Emma laughs as she takes a sip of her coffee.

"Excuse me, Ms. Swan?"

Emma looks over to see Sidney sidling up to her. She can't even try to hold in the sigh as she gingerly sets her cup down.

"What is it, Sidney?"

He glances at Ruby, who is still leaning over the bar, as he hands Emma a piece of paper. "I figured you'd be here after I couldn't find you back at the station. I forgot to give you this. It's a list of my references that I'm sure you'll find very useful."

Of course she will, she thinks to herself as she mentally pictures setting fire to it.

"Thanks, Sidney. I'll add it to your other forms when I get back to the office," she tells him, forming a tight smile.

He does his little bow again before turning around and leaving the diner as she carelessly throws the paper on the counter.

"What was that about?" Ruby asks confused. "References for what?"

"Deputy," Emma says simply.

"Oh, right. Doesn't he already have a pretty good job? Why is he interested in getting this one?"

"Because Regina is interested in him getting this one and she has her hand far enough up his ass to work him like a puppet. I doubt he'd be trying this hard otherwise," Emma explains as she takes a bite of her sandwich.

"You have a point there, Sheriff," Ruby states as she pulls the discarded paper towards her, giving it a once-over.

"Well, what do you know? Mayor Mills is the first one listed as a reference."

"Shocker," Emma mumbles around a mouthful of food.

Ruby's eyes suddenly widen as she grabs onto Emma's arm. "Emma!"

"Hmm?" She stops chewing at the sudden change in Ruby's demeanor.

"_I_ can be deputy!" She whispers excitedly.

Emma chokes a little as she doesn't know whether to laugh or take the time to swallow properly. Ruby impatiently waits for Emma to clear her throat.

"Well?"

"Ruby… "

"Oh, come on! I can answer phones, file paperwork, take care of the small stuff while you go out and do big-time Sheriff business, and I'll even clean!"

Emma frowns as she realizes that that's the third person today to comment on the cleanliness of the station. She did take the trash out occasionally.

She looks up into Ruby's pleading eyes and doesn't quite know what to say. Ruby is friendly enough to handle the phones and she does work hard… But would she be able to handle the responsibility or take it seriously enough?

"Please, please, please. I really need this, Emma," Ruby begs.

Emma pauses for a few long moments before grabbing her coffee.

"Ask your grandmother," she states, taking a sip.

Ruby's face falls, opening her mouth to retort before she's cut off.

"Take her! Get her out of my hair! That's an order, Sheriff!"

Ruby whips around as Emma leans to the side to see Granny poking her head out from the door leading to the back.

"You were spying on us?" Ruby asks in surprise.

"Well, I had to make sure you weren't badmouthing me too bad now, didn't I?" She responds in defense.

A beat passes before Ruby is running to her grandmother and hugging her. "Thank you, Granny, thank you!"

Emma watches in amusement as Granny indulgently hugs her back. As Ruby releases her, Granny points her finger straight at Emma. "You make sure she stays out of trouble. I don't want her put in any danger, you hear me?"

"Yes ma'am," Emma replies, her posture straightening automatically.

"Ruby, you start first thing Monday morning, alright?" She continues as she wraps up the rest of her sandwich and hops off the stool.

"Yes ma'am," Ruby dutifully echoes, beaming. Emma gives her a smile in return before making her exit.

As she walks to her car, her spirits are lifted by the thought of seeing Regina's face when she hears just who her new employee is.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I'm not too happy with this chapter, but I hope the direction of the story doesn't put too many people off. I'm trying not to rush the characters' emotional development in regards to each other, but at the same time I don't want everything moving too excruciatingly slowly, and finding that balance can be particularly tricky. There will more than likely be more steps backward than forward for awhile.

Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. Whether you liked it or absolutely hated it, any feedback would be welcome and can only help.

Thank you for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay, I had not intended to take quite as long to update. Maybe a 10,300 word chapter will make up for it?

* * *

><p>"Hello?"<p>

"Ms. Swan, good morning! This is Sidney, I -"

"Sidney? What the hell are you doing calling me at this hour?" Emma snaps out.

"Uh... well, it's uh, almost 10:45 in the morning, Sheriff," he splutters in surprise. "I apologize if I've woken you, I, um..."

Great, now she's spooked him. "What is it, Sidney?" She asks around a yawn, throwing an arm over her eyes.

"I was wondering if you were perhaps wanting to schedule a follow-up interview?" He rushes out.

"A what?" She asks groggily.

"A follow-up interview. Unless you have already decided on someone, then-"

"This is about the deputy thing?" She cuts across, feeling rather annoyed as she removes her arm to rub the sleep from her eyes. She had just interviewed the guy two days ago. Jesus Christ.

"Well... yes."

When a reply isn't forthcoming, he continues. "So shall we set up another meeting or have you already come to a decision or..." he trails off.

Emma stops wiping at her eyes as realization sets in. She re-positions the phone against her ear and sighs.

"Another interview won't be necessary, Sidney, I-"

"So you have picked someone?" He quickly cuts in.

"I haven't selected anyone yet," she continues, her voice hard, "but you can tell the Mayor that she will be the first person to hear about it once I have, so these calls will no longer be necessary, thanks."

With that she hangs up, turns her phone off, and tosses it to the other side of the bed. As stealthy as Regina can be, she can be quite obvious sometimes. Using Sidney as a way to get information out of her was old hat, Regina should have known better.

She supposes she could have told him the truth, that someone already had been picked, but then she'd be stuck with him tailing her all day trying to figure out who it is and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to tell the Mayor herself.

Emma doesn't know why she has such a drive to make telling Regina in person a high priority. She easily could have called the Mayor up anytime before now and let her know who was going to be added to her payroll. But whenever she thinks about doing just that, she feels a strong pull in her gut telling her to wait. It's a name, that's all it is. But it represents more than merely an identity. It represents the stripping of another notch of the Mayor's power, another issue that the Mayor will have lost control over. At least overtly. Emma can't resist that pull, that urge she has to say it to Regina in person and bear witness. Tonight seems like as good a time as any since Ruby starts the next day.

Emma considers that perhaps this line of thinking isn't exactly healthy, but lately she has been craving to deliver a big 'Fuck You' to Regina in some form or another. She might as well seize the small opportunity that has been granted to her.

She's aware of how warped the relationship between her and Regina appears as she begins to think about it: Screwing each other as well as trying to screw each other over, knowing more about the other physically, mentally, and professionally than emotionally. But opening their legs shouldn't – doesn't – signify anything more than a physical want and therefore has no place in the rift her and Regina seem to constantly find themselves in among the torrents of Storybrooke.

Emma feels a faint flush creep up her neck in sudden embarrassment as her mind careens her back to last Wednesday night in Regina's bedroom. How she had thought about tipping the scales in another direction. How she had made a fool of herself.

_No._

She had been over this already. She isn't going to let her mind be dragged back there. Regina is a manipulative, conniving bitch. End of story.

Emma looks up at the ceiling then, following the random cracks that have formed in the cheap molding as she tries to quash the little voice in her head, the faint whispers suddenly rising up to contradict her previous thought about the Mayor.

_No_.

The flush reaches her face as she gets angry with herself. That stupid little voice, feeding her those traitorous thoughts, was the very reason she had made an ass out of herself in the first place. She's not going to-

"Emma!" A voice suddenly calls from the other side of the door, ceasing her current line of thought.

"Yeah?" She calls back quickly, her voice still rough from sleep.

"Henry's on the phone. He said he tried your cell, but it went to straight to voicemail."

Emma glances over to where she had thrown her phone and sighs, reaching over to turn it back on.

"Do you want me to tell him you'll call him back since you're still in bed?" Mary-Margaret asks through the door, a slight disapproving tone carrying through. Emma rolls her eyes. It's like her roommate has never heard of anyone sleeping past the crack of dawn.

Being the only scrap of law enforcement in the town means that she is on call 24/7, but on Sundays she's free from having to actually go into the station if none of the cells are occupied, and she takes advantage of these opportunities to catch up on as much sleep as she can.

"Yeah. Thanks," Emma replies, throwing the sheets off and rolling out of bed. A scalding hot shower sounding right up her alley as she makes her way to the bathroom.

**xxxxx**

"What did you find out, Sidney?" Regina barks into the phone by way of greeting.

"Um, well, she doesn't have anyone picked for deputy yet, but she wanted me to tell you that-"

"Tell _me_?"

"Yes. She wanted me to tell you that you will be the first person she'll call once she's made a decision."

"Anything else?" Sidney hears her sigh of frustration.

"No, she hung up after th-"

Regina promptly disconnects the call. Leave it to Sidney to be completely obvious, she thinks irritably.

It should have taken 2 seconds to declare Sidney deputy – taking into account the other dolts the sheriff interviewed – not 2 days. She doesn't want Emma to think she is bothered enough to actually ask the woman herself, but that's clearly already been scrapped. Now the blonde will probably prolong the process, just to further annoy her. Regina's hand twitches, contemplating reaching for the phone again and dialing the number she knows she shouldn't.

The Sheriff's station is the one place she no longer knows the ins and outs of, has no effective control over, and she would be lying if she said that it didn't irk her, didn't fill her with a sense of unease. Having Sidney in the mix would relieve some of discomfort, but she knows she won't be able to blatantly force Emma into making him deputy. She would behave like a child and do everything she could to prevent it. But this way, if she seemingly puts the decision in her hands, lets her figure it out for herself, then Regina should get what she wants. Should.

She slides her hands off of her desk as she leans back in her chair, steepling her fingers together in thought.

Now she regrets ever giving Emma a choice in the first place. She should have just dropped Sidney into the position and hoped that Emma wouldn't find out that Regina technically didn't have a right to, as that decision was not for the Mayor to make. It had been a little white lie – telling Emma that Regina had the power to name a deputy for her – so that Emma would pick up the pace and pick someone already. Emma had had her time to mourn, to adjust. She should be lucky Regina gave her this long.

After all, Regina, too, missed the former sheriff. But she didn't let her grief stop her from continuing with her duties to the town, her town. Death was a necessary part of life. Regina had learned that long ago. So while she had shed a few tears for Graham, his death didn't tear at her or shatter anything within her. There was nothing left inside of her to damage, really.

Regina takes a deep breath, glancing around her study and gazing just a little too long on the decanter across the room.

While she wants to view Emma as weak, as another person too caught up in letting their feelings rule their mentality, Regina finds that she's not quite able to. Not quite able to cast such a pitiful shadow over the woman she has felt such confliction over.

After a few more minutes of drifting in and out of thought, Regina sighs and decides that it's never too early for a drink.

**xxxxx**

"Sure you can't come with?" Emma asks, wrestling her foot into a boot.

"I can't. I promised the kids I'd have their papers graded and handed back to them by tomorrow," Mary-Margaret explains from her position on the couch, red pen and essays in hand.

"Haven't they been going to school long enough to know not to believe teachers when they say that?" Emma mutters, heading towards her jacket of choice. Mary-Margaret frowns at her briefly before crossing out something on the paper she's looking over.

"It's elementary, just give them all A's for effort and come with me," Emma tries again.

Mary-Margaret responds with a stern look and a shake of her head.

"Alright, alright, want me to bring you back anything? I don't know how long I'll be," she says as she grabs her keys off the counter and makes her way towards the door.

"No, thanks. I'm guessing this is about Operation Cobra?" She asks, glancing over at Emma before scribbling a comment in the margin of an essay.

"Most likely," is all Emma offers as she walks out with a sigh.

She loves spending time with Henry, she really does, but lately all of their interactions have involved either "Operation Cobra" or another plot along the same lines. She doesn't want their relationship to be completely based on that fact that Henry thinks she's some sort of white knight sent to rescue him and this town from an evil curse cast by his mom.

She knows his belief in the curse is what brought her here, the only reason he looked her up in the first place, but nevertheless she doesn't want a piece of make-believe revolving around the time spent with him. That's the main reason why she was a little desperate to have Mary-Margaret come along; Henry wouldn't be as willing to discuss the curse with his teacher present.

After several minutes of walking and grousing, she makes it to the diner and proceeds inside where she plops down into an empty booth to wait for Henry. She tries to perk herself up with the knowledge that at least she'll actually get to see her son, even if the curse is all he wants to discuss, and quell the bad mood that's been slowly trying to consume her since she was first awoken.

"Coffee?" Ruby asks with a smile, already setting a cup down.

"Yes, please," Emma groans, watching the steaming liquid being poured with more attention than necessary.

"Rough morning?"

"Something like that." Emma takes a grateful swig.

"Any company today?" Ruby questions again, a mild look of concern knitting her brow as she takes in Emma's demeanor.

Emma sets her cup down and is about to answer when Henry expectantly hops into his side of the booth. "Hot chocolate, please," he states with a smile up at Ruby as soon as he's made himself comfortable.

"You got it," Ruby winks with a smile of her own and heads to the counter.

"Emma, why didn't you pick a table at the back? There's less people over there and we won't be overheard," Henry murmurs, leaning over the table and glancing around.

Emma grips the coffee cup between her hands as she sighs, giving him a knowing stare. "Hello to you too, Henry."

His eyes snap back to hers and instead of looking apologetic like Emma expects, he squints at her for a moment before responding with, "You look like mom."

"What?" Emma is taken aback enough that she halts her mug's journey to her mouth, confusion causing her lips to quirk slightly.

"When you look at me like that, it reminds me of the looks mom gives me whenever she thinks I'm being rude."

Emma scowls, taking a big gulp of the bitter beverage. She does _not_ act like Regina, she thinks irritably.

"I take it you get that look a lot?" Emma knows how callous Henry can be towards Regina sometimes, whether he truly means to be or not. Emma doesn't feel it's any of her business though. She's certainly not concerned enough to do anything about it. Besides, she's sure Regina wouldn't appreciate Henry treating her more appropriately because of Emma's say-so, of all people. It's just something that Henry is going to have to do on his own whenever he grows out of these warped fantasies.

Henry just shrugs in response.

"Anything else I can get you two troublemakers?" Ruby asks as she sets Henry's hot chocolate in front of him.

"No, thanks, Ruby," Emma replies with a smile. Ruby turns to go, but spins back around, her hair whipping to the side from the force.

"Oh, Emma, I was meaning to ask you, what's the dress code?"

"Dress code?"

"Yeah, for the station?" Ruby clarifies, a little bit of eagerness in her voice.

"Oh, um, just whatever."

Emma takes in Ruby's outfit before rushing out, "Just as long as it's, you know, appropriate." She inwardly hopes she didn't come off as judgmental. She doesn't mind Ruby's attire as much as the next person, she is human after all, but she can't have a deputy running around in short skirts and heels. The girl would break her neck if she had to chase someone down or more likely if she slipped on one of Emma's countless stray food wrappers.

Ruby gives her a knowing smirk, "Oh, I'm sure I'll be able to find something up to scratch, Sheriff."

As soon as she leaves, Henry's eyes go wide.

"_Ruby _is the new deputy?" His tone is a mixture of surprise and trepidation.

"Yep. Just don't tell your mom, okay? I'll let her know later."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that. You couldn't give me all the candy in the world to be the one to tell her _that_ news," Henry tells her right before diving into the whipped topping of his hot chocolate.

"Oh, come on, she won't get that mad. So I didn't pick her precious Sidney, so what?" Emma rolls her eyes. Despite the front she's putting up, Henry's reaction did kind of put her on edge.

"'So what?' Emma, do you even know my mom?" He asks, a condescending look on his face that could be on par with his mother's.

Emma sighs in response.

"Henry, the most she'll do is get angry for a day, then get over it and start on her next scheme to weasel Sidney in." Not to mention Emma probably going two weeks without getting laid as punishment. That thought puts a scowl on her face. She better get her fill from the Mayor tonight before telling her or she'll probably be tossed out on her ass without getting anything.

Henry just shrugs his shoulders again, still looking at her warily, before he starts digging in the backpack that he brought with him, and Emma knows that he is about to pull the book out.

"Henry, wait."

"Someone coming?" He quickly glances about him again.

"No, no, it's not that," she tells him, "But before we get into all of the fairytale shi- uh... stuff, why don't you, um, tell me what you've been up to lately?" She tries to give him an encouraging smile, but can feel the tightness in it and knows it's coming off as more of a grimace than anything at her lame attempt at normal conversation.

"What I've been up to?" He asks in confusion, hand hovering just inside his bag.

"Yeah. Like how has school been? Are you doing good?" Emma continues, feigning enthusiasm. She really does try to invest herself in his studies, but that doesn't mean the topic doesn't bore her to death.

"'Well', dear," a voice interrupts.

Emma whips her head in the direction of the mocking tone and can't even bring herself to feel surprised at the presence of Regina. Henry rips his hand out of his backpack and moves to practically sit on it, trying to obscure it as much as possible from his mother.

A look of annoyance flits across Regina's face at his action as she walks over to their table. Emma knows that if Regina really wanted that book she would have taken it ages ago. Henry still working under the belief that his book is constantly under siege by the Evil Queen would undoubtedly get under Regina's skin and that infuses Emma with a sense of understanding for the other woman. But not enough to care.

"'Well, dear', what?" Emma asks, not even bothering to hide her own irritation at Regina interrupting her and Henry's time together. It doesn't happen often enough for Emma to confront her about it, but that doesn't stop her intrusion from getting Emma's temper up.

Regina flicks her eyes back to the blonde's, the slight look of ridicule back in them as she replies, "I believe you meant to say 'well', not 'good'. That is the more appropriate term," she finishes, lilting her voice patronizingly.

"Same difference," Emma states, leaning back against the booth. She's aware it's not the best comeback in the book, but it's better than nothing.

"I will not have Henry getting a decent education at school only to have him pick up on your uneducated habits, Ms. Swan," Regina replies coolly.

Emma just looks at her for a moment before rolling her eyes and going back to her coffee. She is not going to allow herself to get baited into one of Regina's shame-games. Emma's been called a lot of bad things over the years; being subtly referred to as dumb is pretty low on the list.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Emma asks, choosing to move on. She notices Henry shrink somewhat in his seat and when she looks fully at him he refuses to even make eye contact.

Before Regina can explain, Emma cuts her off. "You snuck out." The inflection of a question not needed as Emma knows it's true.

"Yes, he did. I take it you were unaware?" Regina purses her lips.

"Of course I was," Emma snaps. "How'd you know we'd be here?"

"It's a small town, Sheriff, and this is one of the establishments you and my son tend to frequent." Regina keeps her face blank, not daring to let an ounce of the envy she feels escape. Regina and Henry used to come to the diner together when he was younger... happier. But that all changed once his suspicions took hold and the paranoia leeched all of the happiness he had towards her out of his heart. She supposes it's not technically classified as paranoia if the tales are true, but she quickly crushes the thought before it has the chance to fully develop.

Emma looks back at Henry and sighs. "Henry, we've talked about this, you have to get permission first."

"I just really wanted to see you," he mumbles.

"Henry, you could have requested to see Ms. Swan. I would have let-"

"No, you wouldn't have!" He blurts out suddenly, looking up at Regina.

Regina looks slightly shocked and Emma's eyebrows shoot up as she looks down at her coffee. She feels like she's intruding on a family matter – ironic considering she's actually related to one of the people involved – so she stays quiet.

"Henry. In the car. Now."

Regina's voice is unwavering and like steel as she points towards the exit.

He risks a glace in Emma's direction, but she merely shakes her head and he scoots out of the booth, bag in tow, and heads sullenly for the door.

As Regina watches him sulk toward the car (probably to make sure he actually gets in instead of bolting) Emma watches Regina. She notices that her expression has gone back to being unreadable, the effort causing a slight tick in her jaw. Emma is unsure of what to say or do. She has made it a point not to get in the middle of the strifes between Regina and Henry as it would only upset the delicate balance she holds between them.

If she steps in for Regina, Henry most likely won't trust her anymore and she isn't sure if she would be able to handle the rejection of her own kid, especially if he's the main reason she's even staying in this town. On the other hand, if she comes out on Henry's side and appears encouraging, Regina has enough power to actually file that restraining order she's threatened her with and she won't be able to have contact with Henry at all.

Either action would end up doing more harm than good.

As the faint sound of a car door slamming reaches their ears, Regina turns her head back to the booth, her eyes staring hard at the wood of the table.

"I will be delegating when and where you and Henry can visit from now on. Any calls he makes to you requesting your presence will be deferred to me for approval, is that understood?"

Emma could burst into a tirade about how unfair it is to tighten the leash over just one transgression (at least she hopes it's just been the one), but for some reason she doesn't have the energy or want to get into it with Regina over this particular topic.

So she just nods her head in acquiesce with a muttered, "Okay," and taps her fingers against the glass of her mug, waiting for Regina to either list off more restrictions or leave.

Regina's eyes flicker over to Emma at the lack of a fight. She resists the urge to think that maybe the girl is finally learning her place, mainly because she knows the blonde is near hopeless when it comes to anything involving the act of submission. In this circumstance at least, Regina thinks with a small smirk.

Emma is more than likely playing her; pretending to abide by Regina's wishes only to continue going behind her back and seeing Henry. The smirk disappears completely as a bout of paranoia of her own washes through her. Emma probably gets a sick pleasure out of knowing that he would rather spend time with her than the woman who raised him for 10 years. Regina goes so far as to think that maybe Emma had known all along that he wasn't supposed to be out and wanted to get caught spending time with Henry just to have the opportunity to rub it in the Mayor's face.

Emma looks up from her coffee after an awkward pause and is slightly taken aback by the glare that's meeting her head-on.

"What? I said okay," Emma spits defensively.

After a moment, the glare is reigned in as Regina realizes that even Emma Swan wouldn't be that stupid, putting her wayward thoughts down to her own anguish over Henry thinking the worst of her, yet again, and the couple of drinks she had before she had discovered Henry missing. It wouldn't have hurt her as much if she had caught him doing anything other than presumably conspiring her demise with the one woman meant to make it so. But what else could she expect? Since when were beloved White Knights cast aside in favor of wretched Evil Queens?

"That's been noted, however I wish to discuss with you the matter of your new deputy," Regina segues. Since she's here, she might as well try to get to the bottom of Emma's stalling instead of dwelling on a subject that will have her gunning for her liquor cabinet a second time today.

"You know who I picked?" Emma abruptly asks, eyes widening in surprise.

Regina's eyebrows shoot up at the misinterpretation. So she _had_ lied to Sidney.

At Regina's look, realization dawns on Emma and she works to quickly backtrack. "Not that I've made a dec-"

"I suspected that you might have deceived Sidney," Regina cuts across smugly.

Emma considers further denial, her mouth open to spew forth another lie, but at Regina's triumphant look she ends up sighing instead. Will she ever have the upper hand for more than a minute? She's seen Regina's arrogant smile enough the past week to last her a lifetime. She instead decides to ignore Regina and sip her coffee, thank you very much.

"Why the stall, Ms. Swan?" Regina puts one hand on the table, her upper body leaning forward under the guise of looking out of the diner window as she murmurs in a low voice, "Afraid you won't get any if you tell me the truth?"

Emma suddenly splutters and gasps as coffee is sucked down her airway in surprise at Regina's words. Regina immediately straightens as, undoubtedly, Emma's actions cause a few eyes to snap in their direction.

Regina knows she shouldn't have said it, shouldn't have leaned any closer to the Sheriff (she blames the scotch for that one), but she was not going to stand there and be brushed off. She surprised herself more than Emma with the remark, but it's not her fault the Sheriff is as transparent as she is blonde; how could Regina not rankle her a bit? Besides, Emma had broken their unspoken Vegas Rule first, or whatever it's called. No harm in breaking it once more. At least she got her answer... sort of. Either Emma really had defied her and selected someone else or she had indeed picked Sidney and was just giving Regina the run-around for her own kicks.

She waits for Emma to compose herself as the few patrons that are in the diner go back about their business. Emma takes care to shoot her a glare as she runs her sleeve across her mouth to get any excess liquid off.

"Well?" Regina asks, arching her eyebrow.

"Well, what?" Emma asks irritably as she grabs a napkin to wipe up some of the coffee that had sloshed out of her mug. What does Regina think she is playing at, asking her something like that in such a public setting? Emma scoffs at herself; she knows she's more irritated that Regina was correct, at least somewhat, in her assumption than the fact she called her out on it in the middle of the diner.

"Who is it?" Regina crosses her arms then, her very posture daring Emma to say any other name besides Sidney Glass.

Emma decides to keep running her napkin over the table top as she mulls over what to tell Regina. She supposes she could tell her now, but she runs the risk of Ruby getting caught in the crossfire since both the waitress and Regina are present. She imagines that Regina would be downright cruel about Ruby's abilities as deputy, shaming her out of the position before she even gets started. Emma can't have that, so she moves on to her next scenario. She can wait until she's over at Regina's place tonight and tell her then, but only after they fuck, otherwise she'll be stuck back at Mary-Margaret's place fucking herself because that's all she's gonna get. Or if she tells her before, maybe Regina will be so mad that she will have to fuck her to get it out of her system. The image distracts Emma as she rapidly pictures all the ways Regina would vent her frustration on her.

"What are you smirking at?" Regina snaps, breaking Emma out of her trance.

"Um... nothing," she sighs, finally crumpling the napkin up and tossing it on the table, a frown appearing. Fat chance of that happening; Regina would sooner withhold sex just to spite her.

She wonders when she became such a guy, such a flat-out horndog. Back in Boston it was usually her who held the power, the one who could use sex to her advantage. Not to brag, but she was pretty damn good in the art of fucking someone senseless. Despite that, she knows that Regina wouldn't bat an eyelash if Emma decided not to fuck her as some weird form of punishment. They both know Emma would just be punishing herself more anyway. She hated not being in control, to crave sex with Regina so much that she put the other woman in the position to be able to use it against her. She didn't like how sloppy she was becoming around Regina. She didn't like it at all.

"You'll just have to find out tomorrow," Emma finally answers, deciding to go with the 'fuck it' route and not tell her at all.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yep, that's when the new deputy starts. Get to the station early for a front row seat," Emma states blithely, resting her arm on the back of the booth seat casually in an effort to make up for her earlier floundering.

"Just the way it is," Emma continues with a shrug of her shoulders after seeing Regina's narrowed gaze.

Regina considers her for a moment, her head tipping slightly to the side in thought. "Is that so?"

Emma quirks her eyebrow in response at the instantly recognizable tone. If she didn't know any better, she'd think that the Mayor of Storybrooke had just challenged her.

Emma mimics Regina's pose, tilting her head just so in response.

"We'll see about that, Ms. Swan," Regina continues with a tight smile. "Tonight."

And with that she turns and makes her way out of the diner and to her car without a second glance.

This should be interesting, Emma thinks before she drains her mug completely. Perhaps she'll be in for a night of fun after all.

**xxxxx**

"Tell me," a voice glazed with annoyance gruffs against the heat of her skin, hot breaths assaulting her neck as fingers run teasingly over the seam of her jeans.

"No," another voice replies, this one more breathy and distracted, still adjusting to being thrown on the bed and immediately man-handled. Or Regina-handled, to put it more precisely.

A nip to Emma's neck causes her to hum pleasantly.

"You know I'm going to get it out of you at some point tonight, Ms. Swan," Regina whispers into Emma's ear, taking the lobe into her mouth as she skims her fingers lazily back and forth across her center, alternating between using her nails to scratch against the denim and using her knuckles to rub in small circles.

"You're sounding sure of yourself," Emma manages to get out, her eyes slipping shut as her hips start subtly moving against Regina's hand.

"I have good reason to," Regina responds. She returns to Emma's neck, licking a line up the column of it with the flat of her tongue before biting down into the soft flesh. Emma groans, moving her hips faster; the minimal friction becoming increasingly frustrating. She should just grab Regina's hand and force it down the front of her pants, which is normally what she would have done, but she knows that Regina is testing her at this stage, gauging Emma's responsiveness and waiting to use it to her advantage to get what she wants out of her. A move that bold would push this whole thing in Regina's favor.

Regina drags her mouth from Emma's neck to her shirt-covered breasts. In the back of her mind Emma vaguely wonders if Regina will seek physical revenge against her and bruise her chest as much as Emma bruised hers the last time she was over, but she can't bring herself to care all that much as the feeling of lips and tongue wrapping around a clothed nipple seek to further distract her.

On the drive over here, she had given herself a little pep talk with the endgame being: Come first, tell never. If Regina gets her way it'll be 'tell first, come never' if she hears who Emma has picked as the new deputy of Storybrooke, so she reminds herself to stick to the plan and not give in. Just get in, get some, get gone.

Regina, on the other hand, needed no such talk with herself as she has played this game many times before. Her only weakness in this little game of theirs is that she wants information that the other woman has; therefore she is reduced to actually _needing_ something from her. Which leads to her need rallying against Emma's in a battle of willpower that will end with just one victor tonight. Who Regina sees as no one but herself, naturally. All she has to do is get Emma close enough to that line, close enough to feel it, smell it, taste it, want to cross it with everything she has and Emma will be begging for Regina to finish her off, willingly giving Regina whatever she wants quite effortlessly in return for her release.

They both know that the name is but a mere throw-away point that rests on the surface of the game they've unintentionally laid out for themselves – an added incentive, if you will. Stubbornness and pride lay nestled in the heart of their actions: Regina wanting to further prove that she can work anyone however she wants to get what she needs out of them, including Emma Swan; and Emma working to prove the opposite – that maybe Regina doesn't get to win every time.

**xxxxx**

"Ohhhh fuuuuuck..."

She tightens her hold on the sheets as her body writhes beneath the mouth currently invading her, refusing to grab onto Regina, not wanting signs of weakness to start shining through.

A particularly forceful flick of Regina's tongue causes Emma to cry out, the heel of her foot digging into Regina's back to keep from wrapping her thighs around the woman's head. They have been at this for what feels like the better part of an eternity and she's honestly not sure how much longer she's going to be able to hold out as Regina continues to devour her. A big part of her knows that once she reaches that edge, once Regina has pushed her to the very brink, she won't dare let her fall without first getting what she wants out of Emma because... that's what Regina does.

The confidence she had on the drive over had all but dissipated as soon as Regina had her naked and wet. She knows now that she didn't have a chance in hell of making Regina wait until Monday, so she resolves to now get whatever she can from her before she's booted, even if that involves having to draw some things out. She's still more than a little annoyed though that Regina refuses to undress; it wouldn't take much effort for Emma to slide the short, satin nightgown right off, but Regina had batted her hands away at every turn. Is it too much to ask that she be able to see boobs other than her own?

"Fuck," she breathes out, her hips riding a wave of uncertainty as she wills them to pull back only to have them bound forward to meet Regina's mouth again and again after every lick and suck.

Regina detaches her mouth to look up at Emma, smirk firmly in place as Emma suppresses a whimper, gliding her hands knowingly up and down Emma's thighs.

"Just say it, dear," she purrs, using her nails to rake over the flesh as she smiles predatorily at her.

"Give me the name," she continues in a whisper, her breath ghosting over Emma's sex.

"No," Emma says automatically, having heard the request more than once, her legs flexing under the sensation of Regina's nails. She's not ready for this to end yet, not ready to have Regina angrily throw her out high and dry once she hears Ruby's name fall from her lips.

"I promise I'll make it worth your while," Regina emphasizes with a firm kiss on Emma's clit, not breaking eye contact with the younger woman.

Emma's hips twitch in response as she takes a deep breath through her nose, steadying herself.

"Make it worth my while and I'll give it to you," she challenges back.

Regina's dark chuckle vibrates through Emma's center and she bites the inside of her cheek to keep the small moan at bay, not willing to give Regina the satisfaction.

"I don't do stalemates, Ms. Swan," Regina replies as she removes a hand from Emma's thigh. Emma thinks she's pulling away completely and wants to open her mouth in unjustified protest. Instead, Regina uses her free hand to spread Emma wider as she dips down to run the length of her tongue up Emma's slit in one smooth, hard swipe.

Emma hisses out another "Oh, fuck," just as Regina's smirk drops and she lowers her voice to barely above a murmur.

"I play to win."

Emma barely has time to register the gleam in the brunette's eye before she feels two fingers swiftly enter her.

"Goddamn..." Is all that Emma manages to get out as Regina quickly sets a smooth pace, using her other hand to hold onto Emma's thigh as she places her mouth on the inside of it.

Emma tries not to love the feel of the other woman's fingers filling her over and over, the soft puffs of breath emanating from Regina's mouth onto her skin between the nips and sucks, her nails rhythmically digging into her flesh. She screws her eyes shut as she tries not to rush her body to the precipice that has been waiting for her all damn day. _You can't let her win this easily, Swan._

She feels Regina's lips leave a wet trail down the inside of her thigh as she heads lower and Emma involuntarily whimpers because she knows just how good she's about to feel and just how bad her resolve is going to be weakened because of it.

Regina's trail stays true as Emma feels lips graze clit briefly before a tongue starts to slowly circle it, causing her to arch into Regina's mouth. One of Emma's hands leaves the twisted mess of sheets to grasp Regina's dark locks as she bites her lip to prevent any vocal encouragement, although her hand does that all on its own as she feels herself damningly pulling Regina further into her. Regina responds by sucking her clit into the confines of her mouth, enveloping it in wet heat. Emma releases her lip as a deep groan forces its way out of her throat, her brows furrowing as she feels herself already starting to throb around Regina's fingers.

Her other hand still has sense of its own apparently as she reaches up to grab ahold of the headboard above her and attempts to use the leverage to pull herself away and lessen the intensity, knowing that if she gets too far gone then Regina will stop everything and question her again, perhaps for the last time.

She hears a growl from the other woman during her attempt to escape some of the severity of her tongue, and the hand on Emma's thigh wraps more tightly around her to pull her back down the bed. A third finger is added – probably as punishment, Emma thinks as another groan escapes – and after a few rough, skillful strokes, Emma has both hands clasped around Regina's head and her hips are canting up to allow her fingers more depth.

Emma can't even bring it in her to be mad at herself, she just feels too damn good at the moment.

"God, yes," Emma moans as she fully embraces what Regina has to give. She feels herself getting closer and closer, clenching every time Regina rubs that certain spot as she thrusts relentlessly into her. Emma puts a hand back on the headboard, but this time she's using the leverage to push down more onto Regina's long fingers, needing to get as much out of this as she can.

Her eyes keep opening then fluttering shut again as she rides Regina's fingers and mouth, silently telling herself that maybe lying to Regina and giving her Sidney's name would be worth the fall-out later if it meant she got to ride this out completely.

She feels another chuckle escape from Regina and isn't surprised when the brunette takes her mouth away yet again, Emma's hand falling from her hair frustratedly. She still feels Regina steadily pumping in and out of her as she opens her eyes and looks into dark ones that seem to pierce right through her as Emma continues pushing herself down, meeting Regina's fingers thrust-for-thrust.

As they stare challengingly at one another, beads of sweat glistening here and there among their bodies in the pale light of the moon, their panting filling the air, Regina's words spoken moments ago float through Emma's mind... _I play to win._ The phrase keeps repeating itself in her head in time with each thrust and Emma feels her jaw start to harden as she thinks back to all of the Mayor's past deeds. How she has always gotten her way, always won. How she's manipulated, humiliated, used her very hands to force control over the people of Storybrooke, including Emma. And yet Emma has subjected herself to it, time and again. It is then that Emma makes a decision. She's not giving this woman anything. Emma is here for herself and herself alone. She'll accept Regina's advances for as long as she'll give them, but she won't beg to get what she can already get for herself.

"I'm not telling you," Emma forces out, beating Regina to the punch this time.

Regina smiles, that infuriating smile that never fails to make Emma's blood pressure shoot up, and shifts her position, moving her body up between Emma's legs yet taking care to keep her fingers going.

"I won't let you come if you don't," she says falsely sweet, leaning down so that she's nose to nose with the sheriff.

"You won't let me come if I do," Emma retorts, her green eyes gazing steadily into deep brown ones.

After the two women vocalize the very reason they are even in this predicament, the confessions already long-known, a deafening silence creeps in around them. A momentary pause takes place, tension shifting in the air as Emma's scowl fades and Regina's smirk disappears, and it's in this pause, this quiet moment, that they begin to move against each other without a subversive undertone.

Emma snakes her legs around Regina's waist, pulling Regina deeper into her, as the competitive haze that has been surrounding them starts to gently lift. Regina appears to search Emma's eyes before once again adopting a blank expression. Emma always finds it slightly unsettling whenever Regina looks at her this way. She could either be plotting her murder or thinking about what to cook for dinner for all Emma knew.

Emma's concern doesn't last, it never does, as she focuses less on Regina's expression and more on the fingers moving within her.

A few minutes pass, Emma's ragged breathing all that is heard, before suddenly Regina's eyes narrow considerably, her mouth forming into a snarl as she stills her hand.

"I swear, Ms. Swan, if I see a badge on Leroy I will-"

"Are you serious?" Emma asks incredulously, almost breathlessly, around a grunt as she feels Regina stop moving.

"I certainly wouldn't put it past you to do it, just to spite me," Regina tells her, eyebrow arching as her expression lessens to a slight sneer.

"I have other ways of spiting you, Madam Mayor," Emma breathes against her, right before bringing her hand down from the headboard and placing it on Regina's breast, giving it a squeeze through the satin barrier. A not so subtle reminder of Emma's previous encounters with Regina's chest.

Regina simply swats her hand away and leans back, Emma's legs preventing her from going too far as she holds herself up with a hand beside Emma's head and simply stares at her.

"Are you ever going to take that stupid thing off?" Emma groans, circling her hips once again against the hand still buried between her legs. The start-and-stop part of the game has gotten old and Emma needs to get off, and soon. Getting an eye-full of Regina chest while she's at it couldn't hurt.

"Itching to see something, are we?" Regina asks with her smirk back in place, pushing into Emma as her arm works to continue a rhythm once again.

An appreciative moan leaves Emma's lips as her hips have something to rock more fully against, and she takes full advantage in doing so as her eyes slip shut.

"Your marks are still there," Regina whispers, quickening her pace as Emma feels a jolt of arousal flood through her at her words. Emma would be lying if she said she hadn't been curious about that, trying to sneak peeks down Regina's nightie all evening to see for herself to no avail. Regina leans back down and Emma can feel the other woman's hot breath against the shell of her ear.

"Do you want to see them?" A forceful thrust causes Emma to grab ahold of Regina's back as she gasps, trying to contemplate where Regina is going with this. 'Trying' being the key word as her body starts to buzz at Regina resting fully on top of her, satin rubbing against her bare nipples causing a pleasant tingle to spread throughout.

"Yes," she whispers gruffly back, her other hand moving to Regina's backside as she grabs hold of the hem and slowly starts to slide it up, letting her nails rake over the newly exposed skin of her spine along the way. Emma feels the shiver it causes and lets her hand graze back down to grip at her ass without the material in the way, feeling Regina nip her earlobe in response. Emma's grip strengthens as Regina starts moving even faster and she wraps her legs tighter around the brunette as she feels that familiar throb pick up again.

Emma haltingly drags her fingers back up and tries to push the material farther up, her hand then coming around to pull it up from the front, but Regina's weight on her is making it difficult. The tension building within her clouds her mind as she starts mindlessly pulling, willing it to lift the rest of the way as she whimpers. Regina swipes her thumb over her clit suddenly and Emma jerks, distracted from her mission.

"Yes," she whispers more loudly, hips rising to seek out more of the delicious contact. Regina obliges with another flick, the satin crumpling in Emma's fist as she starts to use it more as a hand-hold than anything, the nails of her other hand digging into Regina's back. Regina's tongue starts dancing up the length of her neck, further pushing Emma to the edge as she swirls it up behind Emma's ear.

Distractions, Emma thinks, these are but distractions. She pushes on Regina's shoulder in an effort to get her to sit up a little. Regina takes the hint and slides her cheek against Emma's as she leans back up enough to see Emma's face.

"I wanna see," Emma explains, her voice a bit hoarse, and she is slightly mortified at how much of a whine was inflected into her tone. She starts to tug the material up, her progress none-too-smooth as she's only partly focused on the task at hand – the other half trying to keep her hips in rhythm. Regina just looks down smugly at her, not bothering to help. If Emma wants something, Regina is going to make her work for it, of course.

Emma knows she can't take the thing off completely because of Regina's trapped hand, so she works to pull it up just enough... just enough to – ah... There we go. Emma bites her lip as Regina's breasts spill into her view and _oh fuck_ they make for a wonderful sight.

She immediately lifts a hand to grab onto one greedily, but Regina catches her wrist and pins it beside Emma's head.

"Uh uh," Regina chastises, her eyes twinkling with amusement at the blonde's frown. "You lost those privileges."

"What?" Emma gasps out, breath growing more ragged as Regina's breasts dance in front of her eyes. Regina was right, Emma manages to note as her eyes take in the small, almost-faded patches of purple and gray she spots here and there. She feels herself start to clench around Regina's fingers at the sight, barely registering Regina's response.

"You get to look... not touch," Regina answers, her own breathing harsh from the effort of fucking Emma while holding herself up. She hears a mumbled "Unfair" come from beneath her, causing her to smile briefly.

"Unfair? I haven't been able to wear any... of my nice blouses because of you. No, I've been having to wear either turtlenecks or... or scarves to hide your... to hide you. Your punishment is deserved, Ms. Swan."

"I thought my punishment was... ah... not being able to-to look down your shirt anymore. What with -oh god- all those stupid _turtlenecks _and _scarves_ in the wa-way," Emma hitches out. She's just being an ass at this point, but she did kind of miss Regina's low-cut shirts and barely appropriately-buttoned blouses if she were being honest.

"Cheekiness will get you nowhere, Sheriff."

Emma is sorely tempted to use her other hand to defy Regina and take a breast into it, or yank her down to suck a nipple into her mouth, but decides it's not worth the risk of her stopping so she leaves it to continue holding the flimsy material up and out of the way so she can at least take advantage of the view.

"Fffffuck," she drawls as can feel herself getting close, so unbearably close. Looking at Regina's boobs is better than porn, Emma thinks to herself, her eyes having not yet come unglued.

Regina chooses that moment to release Emma's wrist and move her arm underneath her body to wrap around Emma's back, pressing her chest into the blonde's beneath her. The feel of Regina's nipples pressed against her causes an undignified moan to escape as Emma immediately moves both hands to claw at Regina's back, pulling her more forcefully against her. The bed begins rocking more fervently as Regina starts to thrust her whole body against Emma (not that she really had a choice with that way Emma is gripping her), focusing on penetrating her as deeply as she can. Blonde hair sticks to Regina's sweaty forehead as her face hovers just to the side of Emma's. She then plants her chin on Emma's shoulder to relieve some of the strain on her neck and feels Emma's harsh, rapid breathing blow against some of the dark hair that spills across her face.

Just a bit more, Emma keeps telling herself over and over, just a bit more... she's almost there... just a little bit more...

Her concentration almost breaks as the bed actually starts to make the overly-cliche creaking sounds as they move back and forth. She would be tempted to laugh if she were in any other situation. Regina, for her part, is slightly appalled that her perfectly immaculate, aesthetically pleasing bedroom now sounds like a hotel room turned whore house.

"Feels like home, doesn't it?" Regina can't help but spit out between breaths.

"Shut up," Emma returns lightly, not letting Regina distract her.

She is too close to let her or anything else fuck it up now. She drives herself against Regina again and again, the occasional cry piercing the air as Regina hits a sweet spot.

Regina slowly turns her head, her nose bumping Emma's ear with every upward thrust, and Emma feels her stomach drop.

"Tell me, Ms. Swan," she grates against her neck. "Tell me or I stop right now."

Emma instinctively clutches Regina tighter and feels a powerful surge of hatred course through her at the woman. Regina, apparently, doesn't deviate from her plans, not even an inch.

"Bitch," Emma grounds out, teeth clenching.

She half expects another one of Regina's chuckles, but isn't greeted with anything but the continuous puffs of heat she can feel dampening the skin of her neck as they move against each other.

"That's not an answer."

And Emma's earlier thoughts about not giving this woman anything, not subjecting herself to pleading, not giving Regina what she wants: all of those proud, confident thoughts disappear as she feels Regina's fingers start to still, her body begin to peel away.

"Wait! Wait..." Emma forces out, clinging to Regina and hating herself for it immensely. She'll have to work on her priorities later.

Regina starts thrusting again, this time more enthusiastically as she can practically hear the victory march in her head.

"Yes?" She sing-songs quietly in Emma's face, enjoying having the girl completely at her mercy. A small surge of power rushes through her, her breathing picking up.

Emma forces her eyes shut, concentrating on those vengeful fingers twisting and rubbing in all the right places as she battles with herself.

"I... I'll tell... you," she manages, trying to catch her breath.

"That's right, you will," Regina murmurs, so close that Emma can feel her breath against her lips.

"Because you know what will happen if you don't..." and this time Emma feels the other woman's lips barely brushing against her own as she continues to speak.

"You want to come, don't you?" She coos, snaking her tongue out to run along Emma's bottom lip.

Emma immediately sucks the violated lip into her mouth as she begrudgingly nods, loathing coiling in the pit of her stomach at the very thought of submitting to her. Damn this woman, damn her and her fingers, her mouth, her body, and most of all, damn that infuriating, irritating, arrogant smile on her damnable face. Regina rubs that certain spot within her more firmly and in no time Emma is there. She is right there. She can see over the edge and she needs but little more to finally push her, shove her over so she can finally, achingly, blissfully fall.

"There we are..."

Emma's panting heavily, heart racing.

"Almost there, Ms. Swan."

Hips moving violently, sporadically.

"Name."

She whimpers.

"Give me the name."

Clenching, pulsing, sucking the other woman in.

"Now."

"Fuck!" she screams hoarsely, feeling herself dangling just over the cliffside. The stubborn part of her refusing to lose, refusing to give in while the other part is willing her mouth to form the word that Regina wants because falling is her only option. It only ever is with Regina.

She barely makes out a sigh being blown onto her lips and the feeling of fingers retracting before Emma suddenly snaps her hand down to Regina's forearm and forces the woman to impale her completely. The action, coupled with Regina's scandalized cry, is enough to push her over and Emma throws her head back, her mouth open in relief at the pleasure that is now radiating out from her sex as she pulses relentlessly around the reluctant fingers penetrating her, making her legs tremble and fingers flex unforgivingly against Regina's skin as she feels a sound trying to force its way out of her throat. She usually tries to keep quiet for Henry's sake, but she's too far gone to stop herself as suddenly "Ruby!" escapes her dry lips. She feels Regina trying to pull away, but Emma's limbs lock her in place as she rides the orgasm out as much as she can, finally shuddering into bliss after a few moments.

She's aware of her body becoming limp as Regina wrenches her arm from her grasp, immediately sitting up. Emma scowls then, not sure if more at herself for her slip-up or for missing the presence of Regina's hand already.

"Excuse me?" Regina's voice comes out in a low timbre and Emma's high is chased away as she believes that she can actually feel the heat emanating from the other woman's dark gaze. Emma can't help but feel slightly sheepish; she could have sworn that it was going to be Regina's name that tumbled from her mouth, not the waitress'. She feels it would be too soon to congratulate herself on at least getting the first letter right though.

"What did you just say?" Regina asks again unblinkingly.

"It's – it's not what you think," Emma says, her heart still hammering in her chest from the exertion. She uses her hands to scoot herself up and lean her back against the headboard as she takes deep breaths, feeling rather silly at the moment.

"Ruby... the name..." she gestures with her hand, as if telling Regina to put them together.

She sees the comprehension form on Regina's features and isn't sure what to expect.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Quick poll: Would you, as readers, prefer these longer chapters (8,000-10,000 words) or would you like me to cut them in half and stagger the parts out over time? Note that this would not have an effect on my update speed as I will not post one half without finishing writing the other. I'm asking because I can get unnecessarily wordy and I don't wish to have a chapter so long that it bores the reader to mush. So if you would prefer the writing in smaller doses, please let me know.

As always, any feedback about the chapter would be appreciated.

Thank you for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

****A/N:**** First off, there's been a name change. I was formerly **xStarbuck**, but have changed it to the incredibly unimaginative **Captainly** (don't ask where I was going with that one.) I noticed a few people confusing me with another user who writes Swan Queen that has 'starbuck' in their user ID, so hopefully this will help with any confusion.

Secondly, I've been hearing talk off FFnet beginning to delete stories with heightened levels of smut, so as a safeguard I've created an LJ (Captainly) where this fic and any others I may write will be stored. If the story is deleted from this site, I will continue to update it there for those interested. Also, almost everyone voted in favor of longer chapters, so here is a big 12,000 word one for you.

Thanks again for all of the reviews and alerts, they truly make my day.

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Previously...<strong>**

__"Excuse me?" Regina's voice comes out in a low timbre and Emma's high is chased away as she believes that she can actually feel the heat emanating from the other woman's dark gaze. Emma can't help but feel slightly sheepish; she could have sworn that it was going to be Regina's name that tumbled from her mouth, not the waitress'. She feels it would be too soon to congratulate herself on at least getting the first letter right though.__

__"What did you just say?" Regina asks again unblinkingly.__

__"It's – it's not what you think," Emma says, her heart still hammering in her chest from the exertion. She uses her hands to scoot herself up and lean her back against the headboard as she takes deep breaths, feeling rather silly at the moment.__

__"Ruby... the name..." she gestures with her hand, as if telling Regina to put them together.__

__She sees the comprehension form on Regina's features and isn't sure what to expect.__

[Time elapsed: 2 minutes]

Emma scoots farther up on the headboard, stretching her legs out in front of her while taking care to not brush Regina's folded ones. She's unclear on whether she should be making a break for it or not. Surely any sane person would be stumbling over themselves to get out after having said the wrong name. But Regina's stare seems to almost be pinning her in place, gazing at her with such an intensity that Emma feels she would be risking bodily harm by making any sudden movement.

While Emma may be appearing as expressionless as a stone right now, on the inside she's feeling quite victorious. She had done it. She had managed to get one over on Regina. She had taken matters into her own hands – sort of – and achieved her goal.

Getting laid probably isn't the most inspiring accomplishment, but she's not afraid to admit that she's more than a little proud of herself. Especially considering she had come on her own terms, without Regina pulling the strings. Emma can't decide if Regina is more angry with her over that or for her choice in deputy. She supposes it doesn't really matter in the end.

"So..." Regina finally says, causing Emma's eyes to sweep back to her. "The woman whose name you called out in my bed is also your new deputy?" Her tone is calm, a curious drawl roughly woven in. Emma doesn't buy it for a second.

"You don't have to phrase it that way," she responds, rolling her eyes.

Emma's realizes her attitude probably isn't helping the situation any more than Regina's as she catches the angry curl of the other woman's lip. "Don't I? It's the truth, isn't it?" Regina snaps, her calm nature lost in the thick air of accusation.

"Yeah, but you're making it sound like... like..." Emma fumbles, once again using her hand to gesture half-heartedly in the air. "Ugh, whatever, it's your fault for distracting me."

"__My __fault?" Regina asks disbelievingly.

"Yeah, your fault. Kept pressuring me for that stupid name the entire time, it's no wonder I said it. I was practically being interrogated," Emma grumbles. "And doing that while you're fucking someone," she adds pointedly, giving Regina an accusatory once-over, "Rude."

Regina opens her mouth to retort, but suddenly becomes aware of her own behavior, of how petulant she's coming off as, and snaps it shut. The flash of anger that had ripped through her like fire at hearing Ruby's name had been somewhat tamed over the pause as she had willed herself to put the pieces together, but it is still slowly smoldering away. She's not sure if she's more mad about Sidney getting tossed aside for that floozy, Emma defying her in her own bed, or for her saying another name besides Regina's.

Deep down, Regina knows that Emma saying the waitress' name was a simple mistake, considering the circumstances, but damn it, she did not work that hard, give Emma far more pleasure than she deserved, to have her say someone else's name in Regina's bed, with Regina's fingers inside of her, while clutching onto Regina's body. Regina. Regina. Regina.

Half the pleasure in fucking Emma is hearing her own name fired back at her. It never fails to send a spark through her whenever she hears her name coming from the blonde's lips. When Emma screams it, whispers it, moans it, she takes it as an admittance, a secret confession that Emma knows Regina is in control.

So to hear someone else's name is understandably very frustrating. Especially when that name is also pushing Sidney's off the board for deputy. How is she supposed to keep tabs on the place with – her lips purse distastefully at the thought – _Ruby_ working there? The blonde has definitely lost what little credit she had in her decision-making skills. Any respect the position of deputy once held has clearly been tarnished. What will people think? The girl who has been serving them greasy food in nothing but scraps for clothes all of a sudden wearing a badge? She can only hope this doesn't set off some sort of disturbing chain reaction.

"I don't even know why you're complaining; you got the name, you got what you wanted," Emma continues, watching Regina trying to contain her composure. She smirks to herself before ending with, "So did I."

Regina tries and fails to repress a snarl as she leans forward and wipes her fingers on Emma's thigh. "So you did," she says coldly. The anger at hearing Ruby's name had overtaken her indignation over Emma's bold move, but she can feel it simmering just below. Fucking Emma should not cause her this much aggravation, even if she might have gained just a little bit more respect for her. Emma's adversarial properties are part of what drew Regina to her in the first place after all. But that doesn't mean the woman can't piss her off with her antics.

Emma scowls before yanking the sheet over her rapidly cooling limbs.

"And what I wanted," Regina continues with a sigh, "was for someone competent to help run the Sheriff's Station. Not a washed-up waitress who would sooner sleep with suspects than arrest them."

"Hey, you don't know her, alright? She'll work hard and do what needs to be done," Emma counters, irritation flooding out the last vestiges of her victorious mood.

"Oh, I'm sure she'll work real hard for you, Sheriff Swan," Regina snarks. The more Regina had thought about it, the more she believed that she couldn't possibly be expected to buy that Emma picked that red-streaked ditz for any skills done outside a bedroom... or an alleyway, is more like it.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Emma asks, crossing her arms defensively.

"Nothing. Just that I wouldn't be surprised if Ruby gave you a little... extra incentive to hire her is all," Regina answers, running her hand up the inside of Emma's covered leg to further explain.

Emma gives a purposeful jerk to lose the contact before crossing her legs at the ankle. "Oh, please. Just because you're in the business of using sex to get what you want, that doesn't mean everyone else is."

Regina blinks. "Ms. Swan, did you just call me a whore?"

"You practically called me one first," Emma huffs.

"Actually, I was referring more to Ruby being the slut, not you," Regina responds off-handedly.

"Can you not call her that?" Emma asks with a sigh, giving Regina a reproachful look.

"Why not? She probably likes it." Regina grins.

Emma turns her head away to look at anything other than Regina. She knew this was coming. Regina doesn't like the choice Emma made, so now she's going to degrade it. "Just because she's not who you wanted, that doesn't mean you have to call her names or... or be so immature." She stammers out the last part, pulling it out of her ass at the last second. Any insults pertaining to Regina's sophistication tended to affect the brunette more than flat-out name calling, Emma had learned.

"Immature? Dear, I am simply wondering what could have possibly qualified her for the job," Regina answers, with a feigned look of innocence that they both know Emma can see right through.

Regina sits up on her knees then, and shuffles over to Emma. "I mean, out of all of the candidates, she's certainly not the brightest." Regina gets close enough to lazily swing a knee over and straddle Emma's thighs. "Not the most reliable." She then grips the headboard on either side of Emma's head. "And definitely not the most capable." She gives Emma a mischievous smile then, watching as the other woman adjusts to her proximity.

"So I'm left to believe that maybe she had other ways," Regina thrusts her chest out, "of charming you."

Emma's mouth works to deny the accusation, but is smoothly cut off.

"Oh, Emma," Regina mocks in a higher octave, "won't you please hire me?" She pushes her chest more into Emma's face. "I promise I'll do a good job."

"Regina," Emma says, a low timbre of warning in her voice.

"I'll do whatever you say, Sheriff," Regina continues, removing a hand from the headboard to twist a finger in Emma's hair and tug. "All you have to do is ask and I'll do whatever you want."

"Stop it," Emma states, trying to keep her gaze from drifting.

"That tiled floor is so hard though," Regina pouts, her bottom lip becoming more prominent as she uses her height advantage to start rubbing herself provocatively on Emma's body. "I hope my knees don't bruise."

"Enough!" Emma finally breaks and puts her hands on Regina's waist to push her off.

Regina merely smirks as she's forced off and repositions herself to sit beside Emma's legs. "Was that immature enough for you, dear?"

It always seems to surprise her, just a little, at how easy it is for her former self to seep through in Emma's presence. When she had been Queen, there was the unmistakable air of unbridled arrogance, constant sexuality, a type of free spirit about her... a playfulness. Living 28 years as the town's stuffy Mayor had beat some of that out of her, the frozen years causing her to grow and mature. Emma's job of relieving some of the hum-drum parts of her life was having an interesting, if not entertaining, effect on her.

"Ruby did not, and does not, act like that," Emma grounds out heatedly. "I shouldn't have to explain my decision to you." She's angry with Regina for her beyond ridiculous actions, but more angry with herself for getting turned on at her friend's expense.

"In fact, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous, Madam Mayor," Emma adds, hoping to maybe piss her off a little.

Regina's smirk falters as both of her eyebrows shoot up this time.

"I beg your pardon?" She asks incredulously.

"You heard me," Emma retorts. She highly doubts Regina feels even a trace of jealousy, but it at least wipes the smug look off her face.

Regina's purses her lips before unfolding them in a patronizing smile.

"I can assure you, Ms. Swan, that I have nothing to be jealous of. Whoever else you start, or may already be, sleeping with is none of my concern." She turns away from Emma with a haughty flip of her hair. "I also have no doubt that I'm a far better – as you would put it – 'fuck' than anyone else you could possibly be willing to spread your legs for anyway; the number of which is probably large considering your standards," she adds passively.

Emma doesn't know whether to laugh or take offense at her words. So she settles for another eye roll, bringing her arms back up to cross in front of herself.

A strained silence falls over them and Regina leisurely begins to run her fingers through the creases of the sheets beneath her as her brain whirs. Jealous? Her? She knows Emma was just trying to get her back for her taunts about Ruby, but the accusation sticks in her craw. The emotions felt when Emma had said another's name besides her own was annoyance... frustration... anger. All of which were rightly justified. But she most certainly did not feel _jealousy_ anywhere in that concoction. She's fairly confident that she is the only person Emma is currently seeking out for her _needs_, but even so, she meant what she said before. Emma's sexual proclivities are none of her business.

"You think so?" Emma asks, leaning her head against the wood behind her. "That you're far better, I mean."

Regina snaps out of her thoughts at Emma's question. "Oh, I know so. Why else would you keep coming back?" Her disgruntled mood evaporates as a sly grin forms.

"Maybe I have nothing better to do?" Emma scoffs at her, not particularly liking being compared to a dog.

"Mmm, or no one better to do," Regina corrects, flashing her teeth at the blonde.

"You're full of yourself, you know that?"

"Only on the nights when you're not here," Regina shoots back, unable to resist the double entendre.

Emma laughs before she has the chance to stop herself. It's rare for Regina to fall into banter that's not layered with some hint of malice, and she knows, just like all the other times, it won't last for long. She doesn't fully understand how the woman in front of her can say such hurtful things to her at times, make her feel like the scum on the bottom of an old subway bench, yet also make her smile... laugh, even. It's these moments that cause her view of the Mayor to skew, to contribute to that little voice in the back of her mind. Because it's in these moments that Emma becomes aware that Regina doesn't always look at her with disdain, her voice doesn't always hold that tone of antipathy when speaking to her, that she has the ability to make Emma smile despite it all. Despite all the taunts, the hostility, the contemptuous glares, Emma is forced to acknowledge the other sides to the woman.

But after the events from the past few days, she's resolved, again and again, to not get drawn into it, into her. Indifference is her only weapon, her only defense, the only one that can't expose her own weaknesses in the process.

Regina notices Emma's laughter die rather quickly, a frown forming in its place. Suddenly, "What are you thinking about?" slips past Regina's lips. She flits her eyes off to the side and down to the floor. She hadn't meant to ask that. Since when did she develop any sort of interest in the goings-on of Emma's mind? She holds in a sigh as Emma gazes curiously at her for a moment, hoping the night is not going to end with Emma spilling her feelings onto her.

"Nothing," Emma brushes off. Indifference, she thinks, that's all anyone ever spared her growing up. She had absorbed it, had let it consume her, harden her on the inside. Over time it had bled out to wrap around her, her own neglect forming a shield around her. If she could summon any emotion, it should easily be that one.

Regina doesn't press, doesn't really have the motivation to, so she chooses to gaze out of her window instead. She can barely make out the tree limbs swaying to and fro in the near-blackness of the night as she peers out into her garden. It's then that she realizes how late it must be and turns her head to look at the clock.

Emma catches the movement and realizes herself that she's been here longer than normal. Being at Regina's mercy for the better part of the night had eaten away at the time Emma would have spent fucking Regina.

She feels the disappointment roil in her stomach at the missed opportunity, but is also aware that she can possibly salvage the rest of the evening if she goes about it the right way. She just needs to get into action before she hears the brunette's dismissal – the ever accustomed, 'It's getting late, Ms. Swan', spoken with a sigh whenever she was tired of Emma's presence. Regina had only ever deviated once.

A blinding stab of panic suddenly hits her in the gut as she wonders if Regina plans on surprising her again, uttering the word that had caused her to spiral into an all-consuming mess by unleashing pandemonium in her brain with thoughts and feelings and doubts crashing over one another, turning her mind into a turbulent force of constant confusion.

Stay.

"How about," Emma says suddenly, shifting so that she is sitting up on her knees in front of Regina, "we finally get rid of this stupid thing?" Without hesitating, she reaches out and skims her fingers over the fabric that had become as much an annoyance as it was a hindrance, letting them graze underneath Regina's breasts. She's honestly not sure if she's coming off as enticing or just awkward in her attempt at sudden, fear-induced seduction, and only hopes that Regina can't see right through her.

Regina pauses briefly, looking down at Emma's hands on her, before she comes to a decision and gets up on her knees as well, leaning into Emma's touch with a purr.

Emma feels the relief trickle through her and leans down to plant her mouth reflexively on Regina's neck. She immediately feels the other woman tense and Emma makes it a point to move her mouth along her shoulder and keep the sucking to a minimal. She highly doubts she'd get away with marking Regina a second time in such a visible area and doesn't attempt to. She runs her fingers from the sides of Regina's breasts down to her hips, reaching around to shamelessly grope her before sliding her hands under the satin and up the other woman's back, effectively driving the material up.

Regina responds with a sultry "Mmm" before tilting her head towards Emma and sliding her fingers through the golden locks before her, uncovering an expanse of pale skin. Instead of taking advantage of the offering, Regina leans close to her exposed ear and whispers, "And why would we do that?"

It takes a few seconds for her words to make sense, for Emma to recall what Regina is responding to. _How about we finally get rid of this stupid thing?_ As the words sink in, Emma's hands stop their journey, her eyes slowly sliding open. Regina runs her hand through Emma's hair again, this time with a light tug to get her to detach from her shoulder.

Emma releases the skin between her teeth and slowly raises her head until she's at eye level with the brunette. She looks into the deep brown of the woman's eyes, searching them for anything besides the wicked intent currently sparking in their depths. She refuses to take her hands away, not ready to believe that this has just been a tease.

Regina's voice is like silk as her hands move to rest lightly on Emma's shoulders."You called out another woman's name in my bed, Ms. Swan." She gives her a smirk, then glides her hands down Emma's arms, pulling them from under her nightwear.

"Do you really think I'm going to let you fuck me after that?" Her tone is smooth, low, teasing as she uncurls her fingers from around the wrists in her possession, letting them fall to Emma's sides as her own nightshirt flutters down to settle back around her hips.

Emma is honestly at a loss for what to say or do. She should have expected something like this; she can't go unpunished for anything with this woman. She feels anger begin to steadily rise up. Who does Regina think she is? Leading her on, then using her body as some kind of system for reward and punishment, making Emma feel like an animal, like some sort of... pet!

Regina leans forward a little more, her smirking lips right in front of Emma's slightly agape ones. She glances down at them, then back up to Emma's eyes, looking every bit the Evil Queen Henry has always painted her as.

"Do be a dear and let yourself out."

Emma feels the blood pound in her ears as a flush shoots up her neck to her cheeks. Her anger gets the best of her when she suddenly moves forward the extra inch and pulls Regina's bottom lip into her mouth, biting down hard as a final farewell for the evening.

Something between a growl and a groan vibrates in Regina's throat, her eyes flashing dangerously. Had the pain in her lip not zipped straight down to her center, morphing into a pleasurable throb, she's sure she would have wrapped her hands around Emma's throat.

Before Emma has the chance to release her and storm out (more for her safety than any sort of bravado), Regina runs her tongue across the upper lip within her reach.

Emma immediately lets go of Regina's lip, a faint metallic taste on her tongue, as she registers Regina's reaction.

A beat passes, Regina's determined eyes set upon Emma's curious ones.

Then Regina's mouth lands firmly on Emma's without so much as a second blink, and the blonde responds immediately, quickly moving her hands to Regina's back and ass, pulling her forcefully against herself as hands tangle themselves in her hair.

Regina forces Emma's head to lean whichever way she pleases as everything becomes a fevered mash of lips, teeth, and tongues. Sucking. Nipping. Stroking. Regina falls on top of Emma again with the blonde's persistent tugging before their positions are switched as Emma rolls them over.

Regina wills herself to open her eyes, to come to her senses and push Emma off of her. She has a point to prove here that could still come to fruition if she doesn't waste it by indulging in a spontaneous make-out session. But damn, Emma's tongue can be persuasive. She compromises with herself and notes that if Emma tries to to take this any further, then she'll stop everything. Yes, that is exactly what she'll do.

Emma, meanwhile, is still in a state of slight shock. The second she bit down and saw the look in Regina's eyes, she thought for sure she'd take a right hook to the face if she didn't escape fast enough. As it is, she currently has the woman underneath her with a tongue down her throat and she can't say she's unhappy with this new direction. The word 'new' being especially relevant.

The only other times they kissed had been in the beginning, when they first started their get-togethers. After the first couple of attempts, and the general awkwardness of them, they decided to do without and instead use their mouths for other, more suitable, uses. That didn't stop Regina from the occasional nip or swipe of her tongue here and there though – always the tease. Now Emma wonders what they had been thinking, abstaining from something this good, not giving it the proper chance. The softness of Regina's lips, the harshness of her teeth, the stroke of her tongue, it is the perfect trifecta.

Emma knows she shouldn't, hasn't been given the go-ahead, but while Regina is distracted beneath her, she once again reaches for the hem of that damn satin thing that has so far refused to leave the skin of the other woman completely. She's slowly sliding it up, and has it just above Regina's hips, when she feels legs wrap around her waist.

The shock of wetness against her lower abdomen and the fact that Regina is even encouraging her causes Emma to momentarily pull back. She readily notices the full, glistening lips below her - the amount of sensuality in that feature alone, incredible - and again chides herself for having neglected them for so long.

"Well?" Regina asks gruffly, squeezing Emma's waist tighter. "Are you going to fuck me or not?" She's scolding herself on the inside for giving in, for robbing herself of a golden opportunity to remind Emma that she had been weak, verging on pathetic, for going through all that trouble tonight to get fucked while Regina needn't such things. What better way to drive her point home than by sending the girl on her way without letting her return the favor? Showing her that Regina didn't need Emma, didn't need Emma's fingers, didn't need anything from her at all.

As far as karma goes, this isn't all that bad.

"Oh, so now you want me to fuck you?" Emma responds, not able to help rubbing herself against the wetness pressed against her skin, the pure heat she feels there causing her to sway from side to side as her body literally revels in it. A satisfied sigh comes from the other woman as she grinds against the friction Emma's providing.

Then she registers Emma's words.

"Don't even think about it," Regina grounds out.

"Think about what?" Emma asks with a grin.

"Pulling away as some sort of... of..."

"Payback?" Emma provides helpfully, smirking down at Regina. Oh, how she should. Should just leave Regina hanging, leave her with nothing but a bruised lip and a wet pussy. It is extremely tempting and Emma feels she would be completely justified.

"You wouldn't." Regina's voice is deep and guttural, and she pulls her down for another heated kiss before Emma has the chance to possibly prove her wrong. The fact that she's even having to say this is utterly ridiculous to Regina. She's allowing Emma to fuck her, what more does the blonde need? She knows Emma possesses the nerve, that Regina is well aware of, but does she have the resistance? Would she be able to keep herself from Regina, who's all panting and wet and ready for her?

Emma breaks away from Regina's mouth, fighting the force of Regina's hands on her head and mutters breathlessly, "Want me to fuck you?"

Regina knows she should throw her out just for that, but feels herself pulse at the words so she decides in favor of Emma staying right where she is. But Regina is only willing to play to a point. "I'm not going to beg, Ms. Swan," she says throatily, licking her lips. She would sooner rip her own heart out than beg anyone for anything, especially Emma – the woman who represents her very downfall if Henry is to be believed.

Emma chuckles, her breath puffing against Regina's lips. "I'm not asking you to."

Regina notices that there isn't much authority there, that Emma is truly not seeking that from her.

Emma continues rubbing her lower body in small circles over Regina's soaked cunt, and asks again, her tone even lower, "Do you want me to fuck you? A simple yes or no will do, Madam Mayor."

Regina battles with herself then, not able keep a glare at bay even as she releases another contented sigh. She wouldn't technically be begging. Just a... yes or no. She'd merely be stating a fact that, yes, she does happen to want to be fucked at the moment, and it's purely a convenience that Emma just happens to be here, ready to service her.

"Yes," she finally murmurs, barely above a whisper.

Regina's eyes close as a shiver goes through her, almost as if the word had been buried so deeply that the force of it leaving had caused her spine to quake. Her eyes open back up into a glower.

It's in this moment that Emma finally understands how enticing it is to be in control, how fast the power rushes to the head, no matter how little of it actually in possession. She's coming to realize Regina's addiction with it, with the influence someone can wield over another person.

She slowly runs her hand down Regina's chest, over that damnable satin, sliding across her abdomen, before hovering over the patch of hair she feels brushing the tips of her fingers with every small thrust Regina gives against her stomach. "Say it again," she whispers, letting her nails scratch teasingly over the short curls. She sees the irritation flick over Regina's face, feels the nails digging into her scalp, and half-expects to be shoved away.

A moment passes, and then...

"Yes," she hisses in Emma's face, her teeth clenched.

Emma dares to smile, splaying her hand out above Regina's mound to push her hips more firmly into the mattress and lessen her legs' hold on Emma to provide enough of a gap for her fingers to finally run over Regina's dripping center. They slide so easily through her folds, Emma entering two fingers into her just once – Regina humming at the contact – before she takes them away completely.

"What are you doing?" Regina gasps out dramatically, as if Emma had just slapped her across the face.

Emma's lips twitch. "I'm not going to fuck you, Madam Mayor," she says easily, bringing her wet fingers up to her face and sliding them together in a wiggling motion. She sees the vein on Regina's forehead become more prominent as an angry flush spreads up to her hairline.

"You little-!" Regina starts in, her hands fisting tightly in Emma's hair.

"You," Emma cuts across, louder now, her scalp screaming, "are going to fuck yourself." She slips two fingers into her mouth then, sucking on the juices gathered before pulling them out with a small murmur of appreciation.

Regina's anger quickly morphs into confusion as Emma stares back at her, the blonde looking almost calculating as her eyes flit slowly between Regina's, rubbing her thumb across the pads of her now saliva-slicked fingers. Regina can definitely sense the authority now and she finds herself wondering how this suddenly occurred. Had she not been requesting Emma's leave all but just a few moments ago?

Her jaw seems to go slack as Emma wraps her sticky fingers around one of her wrists, removing the hand from her hair and dragging it down between them. "Right here, right now." She punctuates the point by pressing Regina's hand firmly against the woman's own heat, delighting in how Regina's eyes widen slightly.

"You're serious..." Regina whispers, as if stating a fact, letting her other hand fall from the depths of blonde waves. They have done many things with one another, to one another, but this was certainly new. At any rate, she's more intrigued by Emma's bold undertaking than the fact she wants her to masturbate in front of her.

"Mmhm," Emma answers, pressing Regina's hand again. "Touch yourself," she whispers a little shakily, licking her lips.

Regina uses this moment to gaze upon Emma properly. How dark her eyes have become in what little light is present, how her breathing is increasing with every passing second, how the hand pressing into her own is almost trembling. With fear? Trepidation?

No...

Excitement.

Despite the commanding front Emma is putting up, Regina doesn't think she has ever seen the Sheriff look so wanting, so... open. It's Regina's turn to wet her lips as she represses a smirk. Emma thinks she's dictating this scenario, yet in the very same breath she's practically begging Regina for this.

This game just took a most pleasant turn.

She sighs, taking in the sheriff's features once more, drawing out the pause that had settled over them before languidly sliding her legs from around Emma's waist and planting her feet on the mattress, spreading herself.

Emma's breath catches, but instead of moving away to get a better visual, she remains hovering over Regina, keeping her eyes locked with the other woman. She won't permit herself to take any submissive action for granted again, won't be made a fool of by playing into a tease. So she waits, knowing that this is the moment where Regina will either bend to Emma's will or deny her.

Regina searches the gaze piercing into her, slightly amazed at the new sense of patience, of forbearance, she picks up on. Her eyebrow twitches up briefly in acknowledgement of Emma's move, and, while holding Emma's gaze, she shifts her hand and starts sliding her fingers over herself. She hears the faint, sharp intake of breath and feels the heat from Emma's hand leave hers. She runs her fingers through her folds, feeling for herself how wet she is, then becomes more direct, sliding them up to begin alternately circling and pressing down on her clit.

She is in no mood to tease herself.

Regina's breathing picks up as she steadily starts rubbing her clit faster, Emma not having yet blinked. Normally someone staring at her this intently would unnerve her enough to shove their face in another direction, but now... with Emma's eyes boring into hers as she touches herself, she can't help but get even wetter.

Emma's breathing becomes slightly erratic as she finally allows herself to sit back on her knees between Regina's own. Her eyes stray to Regina's lips, watching Regina moisten them for a moment, before her gaze follows the gentle slope of her neck and takes in the hand resting lazily against her chest. As soon as Emma trails her eyes down to Regina's other hand, the brunette slides her fingers down and shoves two of them into herself, biting her lip to stifle the moan that wants to escape as she greedily begins to pump them in and out.

"No, I want to hear you," Emma suddenly breaks in, her voice sounding strangled. Regina smirks at her and Emma knows she's lost some ground. She clears her throat and tries to sound more in control of herself. "Don't muffle yourself."

Regina barely manages to contain an eye roll as she mouths, "Henry", nodding vaguely in the direction of the house where he's sleeping.

"If he didn't hear me, he won't hear you, Regina," Emma breathes out. Seriously, the kid sleeps like a damn rock. She's not going to let Regina rob her of any of this. She knows she should be lucky that Regina is even complying, but the more she sees, the more she wants.

Regina desperately tries to withhold yet another smirk at hearing her name – not even having to touch the girl to hear it – as she releases her lip and adds a third finger, not sure if the groan that escapes is hers or Emma's. She makes sure to hit her clit on every downstroke, thrusting her hips up to meet her hand to create a steady rhythm. She suddenly hisses as Emma's firm hands push her knees farther apart, forcing her to spread herself wider, the muscles in her thighs burning from the effort. As nails dig into her skin, Regina's presented with the thought of Emma soaking her sheets right now watching her. A soft cry escapes as she pushes her fingers in harder at the thought.

"That's it," she hears Emma mutter.

Emma's whole body is practically throbbing from the show being put on beneath her, for her. Every sound, every movement, every drop of Regina's jaw, scrunch of her brow, plunge of her fingers – Emma is taking it all in, her own wetness beginning to coat her thighs.

Regina's eyes slip closed and Emma feels an unexpected jolt of anger shoot up her spine.

"Open your eyes," she says harshly. "I want to see your eyes."

Regina grits her teeth and opens her eyes back up to look into Emma's, the intensity in them somewhat startling. Regina feels she greatly underestimated this scenario, having not quite understood just how much of a turn on being watched could be.

She decides to further tease Emma, as well as herself, as she uses her other hand to squeeze her breast over her nightie, and then roll the nipple between her fingers, another gratifying sound escaping. She finds that not holding back in the sound department is worth accidentally waking Henry if it means she gets to hear Emma's softly moaned, "Yes," in response.

Then she suddenly feels her hand being ripped away from her chest as Emma seems to almost angrily pull at the material, yanking it down until one of the straps breaks off completely and a full breast is exposed – the other one still partly strapped in with the nipple just poking out.

Regina gasps, not sure if she's shivering more from the sudden cold brushing her nipples or Emma's sudden aggressiveness. Both actions are arousing, so Regina doesn't give it much thought as she continues riding her hand.

Emma stares down at her briefly, soaking in how completely undone Regina looks: Clothes torn, hair mussed, dried blood settled on the bottom of her lip. All the while fucking herself, her eyes locked with Emma's as she moans with abandon.

Holy fuck.

Emma allows herself to grab the breast most easily accessible and squeezes as she lowers her mouth to it, hungrily sucking the nipple into her mouth. Regina tries to keep her eyes from rolling into the back of her head, knowing she probably looks possessed, as she forces another hand down her body to rub her clit more fully as the fingers of her other hand pump faster inside her. Her back arches as Emma's ministrations increase and she cries out, her voice becoming slightly raspy.

She vaguely remembers barring Emma from any contact with her breasts, but the longer Emma's mouth is on them, the more faded the thought becomes. But if she so much as feels a bite, Emma Swan will be lucky to still have her teeth if Regina has any say in the matter.

Emma seems to sense the small level of danger she's in just by being within the general vicinity of this area, so she sticks to licking and light sucking, throwing in the occasional pinch with her fingers. She hears the whimper above her and pinches harder to elicit another one.

The first time she had ever heard Regina whimper, she had been in disbelief and vaguely wondered if it was just a kitten stuck in a tree outside her window. But to Emma's delight, the sound had come from Regina. It was, and is still, the most vulnerable sound she has ever heard leave the woman's lips.

"Fuck," Regina gasps out, already so close. Emma snaps her head back up, intent on seeing Regina's face when the woman falls. Finding herself desperately wanting to know what she looks like on the nights that Emma isn't around, wanting to burn the image permanently into her brain as the esteemed Mayor of Storybrooke comes around her own fingers.

Regina squeezes her eyes shut again as another moan falls from her lips. Emma decides to let her keep them that way as it will only further perfect the image as she rakes her gaze from Regina's eyes, down to her open mouth, her heaving breasts, the roll of her hips, the pounding of her fingers...

Before Emma can process what she's doing, she's removing her hand from Regina's breast to start furiously rubbing her own clit, hovering over Regina again as she braces her arm beside her head. Her sudden moan jolts Regina's eyes open as the other woman realizes it didn't come from her. Regina barely has enough time to witness the blonde's eyes fluttering closed before she quickly takes in the scowl of concentration stamped on Emma's face and sees the arm moving at lightning speed.

She sucks in a sharp breath at the sight, her nostrils flaring at the sudden slam of adrenaline that courses through her, her own hands moving faster as an almost primal sound escapes. She makes a mental note to herself that, oh, yes, they will be doing this again.

Emma wants to open her eyes, feeling Regina's stare upon her, but is wary of what she'll encounter upon lifting her lids. Any control she had, any power gained, had all but went up in flames the second she touched her own sex. Regina could interpret Emma's action to be as good as waving the white flag, as proclaiming that Regina, without even touching Emma, had brought her to her knees. She doesn't want to open her eyes to the ridicule that could possibly be lying in wait beneath her, the sneer that she'd likely discover adorning the brunette's features.

Not now.

Not like this.

As these thoughts sink in, Emma suddenly feels ashamed of herself. Did she really just express fear over Regina possibly acting like she always does? A bitch?

Defiantly, she opens her eyes and instead of finding mocking, she sees the lust etched in Regina's features. Barely any brown is showing in her blackened gaze as she rakes her eyes from Emma's face down to her arm, then back up again. Emma smirks, shoving away her doubt, and shifts her own legs further apart, causing her body to lower that much closer to the one below her while taking care to not jostle Regina's arm with her own.

Everything begins to intensify, heighten even more as they continue to touch only themselves, with only the barest of centimeters separating them. Regina bites her lip again from the force of her fingers as she feels herself being pushed that much closer.

Emma glances down at her mouth. "I thought I told you to stop that," she whispers around her panting.

Regina releases it, but only to say, "I thought I told you to leave," with a cock of her eyebrow.

Emma smiles briefly as she leans down and sucks Regina's plump lip into her mouth, this time using her tongue to gently sweep across it in a vague semblance of her previous encounter with the flesh. As she runs her tongue across again, she's rewarded with a sharp inhale as she probes the gouges left by her teeth. A hint of fresh metallic greets her, but she can't bring it in herself to feel remorseful as she sucks on the lip more fully.

Regina pulls one of her hands back up, leaving the other to pick up the slack, and brings it up to grasp Emma's chin, the wetness of her fingers sliding on the younger woman's skin briefly. Emma feels the pressure from Regina's hand on her and releases the lip in her possession with reluctance.

"I'm already going to have enough trouble covering the bruise tomorrow," Regina pants. "I don't need you making it any worse."

Emma sighs with annoyance, bracing herself more heavily on her arm. "I'm not allowed to suck on your neck or your boobs properly and now I'm being denied your mouth?" She barely makes an effort to hide the whine in her voice.

"Your fault," Regina breathes into her face, the response becoming almost automatic whenever Emma complains.

Emma glares, but as she prepares to release a snappy response, Regina unceremoniously pokes her thumb into her mouth. She scowls at the abrupt intrusion and resists the urge to bite as Regina massages it against her tongue.

"Suck all you want, dear," is all Regina gives her, a corner of her mouth upturning.

Emma narrows her eyes. As she goes to spit the digit out of her mouth, she suddenly realizes that it's not just saliva on the woman's thumb. A begrudging sigh escapes her nose and she promptly starts sucking, swirling her tongue around the intruder as the taste of Regina settles in her mouth. _Damn her._

Regina groans at the sight as her fingers are forced to grip Emma's cheek from the force of the mouth encircling her thumb. She seizes the opportunity to begin rubbing her slick fingers over the pale skin in her grasp. Marking Emma in her own way.

Emma hears the other woman's moan of satisfaction beneath her and feels the resounding pulse between her legs. Her breath comes more forcefully through her nose as she picks up the speed of her hand. She knows she'll end up biting Regina's thumb off if she keeps this up, so she relaxes her mouth enough for Regina to be able to slide it out.

Regina takes the hint and briefly hooks the digit on the bottom row of teeth before running it along the inside of Emma's bottom lip, gathering the wetness there and smearing it across the outside of it, only vaguely aware of what she's doing as her mind starts getting more hazy with every thrust of her hips. She then lets the tips of her fingers glide along the cooling wetness on the blonde's face, the luminous light of the moon causing the blonde's cheek and mouth to glisten with a mix of saliva and her own juices.

"If you want your cum on my face, I can think of better ways," Emma muses.

Regina blinks, her gaze flicking to the damp fingers on Emma's face as they halt in mid-stroke. "I wish I could say that your crudeness surprises me, Ms. Swan," she replies with the drop of her hand.

"Uh huh," Emma grunts, only partially paying attention to Regina's words as becomes aware of how close she is. She knows she should back off, slow her hand. How is it going to look if she comes this quickly, and before Regina, no less? But even as she begins to feel tension shift in the room, she has no desire to stop herself.

Regina notices Emma's shallow breathing, her rhythm becoming unsteady. Even in her hazy, pleasure-filled mind she's able to pull off a smirk. Not only had Emma not been able to withhold in the presence of Regina fucking herself, she's now going to come before Regina's even gotten off once. She can't say that she is entirely surprised.

"Are you... going to come, Ms. Swan?" She hitches out, her breathing becoming more rapid at just the thought of it, of seeing Emma shatter above her in a physical manifestation of her loss of control.

"Don't s-say... a word," Emma pants, Regina's smug look making volatile emotions rise fast within her.

A small, hoarse chuckle leaves Regina's lips. "Hmm?" She presses. "Going to come... watching me?"

Emma bites her lip, the growl still heard nonetheless.

Regina smiles more fully now at the response, her eyes shutting as she leans her head farther back into the pillow. "Yeah, you are," she whispers in one quick breath, a provocation, proclaiming her victory. The following moans that leave her mouth almost seem to be in spite of Emma. "And here I thought you'd finally learned some form of self-restraint," she adds after a few moments.

Emma feels that familiar knot of anger tighten inside of her, feels it begin to flare in her stomach, the blood beginning to pound in her ears again at Regina's words, Regina's voice, Regina's smug smile.

Then her eyes close and her mouth drops open as her body tenses.

Regina quickly places her hand over her mouth and feels the strangled moan reverberate against the skin of her hand, feels the hot, uneven breaths stuttering through her nostrils as the blonde shakes above her.

Regina inhales sharply at the sight of the trembling mess before her, roving her unblinking eyes over each jerk of Emma's hips, halting movement of her hand, and steels herself to keep from following immediately after her.

Once the sounds have died down, she removes her hand from Emma's mouth, only to have the sheriff immediately fall on top of her.

The breath is forced out of her lungs in a heavy "Oomph!" and before she has the chance to shove her off, Emma begins grinding her hips into her hand, which wouldn't be so bad if Emma's arm didn't happen to now be pressed uncomfortably against her own, forcing her hand to add that much more pressure to herself.

"Ow," she grunts, not finding this position nearly as pleasurable as it should be.

"Al... almost done," Emma pants against Regina's chest, wanting to ride out the aftershocks completely and not really caring if she's hurting Regina in the process. It's not as if she's all that comfortable at the moment either.

With one final thrust, her body relaxes and she removes her hand, letting it fall with a wet slap on Regina's breast as she rests on top of her.

"So considerate," Regina whispers snidely, trying in vain to shift under Emma's weight, her fingers moving at a snail's pace with lack of room to maneuver.

"You deserve it," Emma mumbles, anger threading through her bliss.

"For being honest?"

"For being a bitch."

Regina chuckles. "For someone who just came all over my sheets, you're certainly a grouch."

Emma lifts her head then. "And for someone who has yet to come at all, you're not one to be judging."

"That matter could easily be resolved if you'd get off me long enough for the feeling to return to my arm, and besides, just because you have the tenacity of a 14 year old boy, that doesn't mean I have to be rushed," Regina chides.

Emma's eyes narrow. "That's funny," she scoffs, lifting herself off of Regina and moving to sit on her knees between the brunette's legs. "You've been on my ass about self-restraint and control, trying to write me off as weak-willed, when in reality I've probably shown more than you have tonight."

Regina's hand falters as it tries to resume its work, then an amused rumble sounds deep within her chest. "You can't be serious. Not even a minute ago you were humping yourself over me like some sort of animal."

"Yeah? And what exactly are _you_ doing right now if not _humping_ yourself, Regina?" Emma asks, the condescension in her voice only serving to agitate the Mayor.

"Please. I'm doing you a favor," Regina sneers, not letting the blonde's words stop her hips from moving unashamedly.

"A favor?" Emma asks, incredulous.

"I could have kicked you out earlier, instead I'm doing this upon your request. You should be grateful."

Emma feels slightly stunned at Regina's words before a mirthless laugh escapes. "Grateful? Oh, okay, so this whole thing is purely for my benefit, is it?"

"You could say that, yes," Regina says around a grunt.

"Well, then, thank you, Regina. Thank you for fucking yourself out of the kindness of your own heart. You're such a Saint," Emma snarks.

"You're welcome," Regina snaps without missing a beat.

Silence falls over them as they stubbornly stare at each other.

After a couple of minutes, Emma makes the first move, shifting forward again to brace her arms on either side of Regina's head and hover over her.

"Are you trying to intimidate me, Ms. Swan?" Regina asks mockingly. "Not that I'm minding the view." She glances over Emma's body to solidify her point. The heat emanating from the blonde feels more desirable now than it did when Emma was laying on her directly and suffocating her with it.

"You're ridiculous," Emma whispers with a shake of her head, amusement creeping into her voice.

"You're a pain in the ass," Regina replies candidly.

Emma grins fully then, allowing it for only a few seconds before letting it drop as she turns away.

Regina feels it again, that brief nagging pull to inquire about Emma's thoughts, but buries it just as quickly as it appears.

When Emma resumes eye contact, she has her features schooled into one of determination, having gotten herself back on track. "Back to what I was saying earlier, about why I'm pretty sure my will-power has exceeded yours." Regina tilts her head away with a sigh of annoyance. Emma had chosen her position wisely; being in Regina's face would keep the other woman from tuning her out. Had Regina known that her simple taunts would be taken so seriously, she would have chosen a more opportune time to unleash them – preferably when her knees were closed.

"I've been thinking-" Emma starts.

"Nice to know you're still capable of such a complex process," Regina interrupts, clearly not in the mood for this conversation.

"Shut up. I'm trying to make a point here."

"Because those always end so well."

"Regina."

"Continue."

Emma takes a deep breath. "You-"

"This seriously can't wait until I'm finished?" Regina asks, feeling the mood deaden with every word that leaves Emma's mouth.

Emma's face contorts into a snarl as she suddenly dips down and bites at Regina's neck, giving one good, angry pulse of her teeth against the skin she's trapped. She hears Regina's pained gasp and turns to breathe harshly into her ear, "No."

"So help me, if you've left another mark..." Regina growls. With her free hand she grips the hair resting above the nape of Emma's neck and yanks. Emma's head wrenches back on her neck and she cries out at the suddenness as sharp, pinpointed stabs erupt across her scalp.

"Fuck," she breathes. Her eyes have to move down sharply to be able to see Regina, and she's not surprised to see the angry expression meeting her.

"Stop interrupting me," Emma gasps, not one to be cowed by Regina's glare.

"Stop biting me," Regina states, eyes roving over Emma's parted lips before drifting down the column of her neck. So clean, so unblemished. So unlike her own. She sees the tendons ripple under the taut skin as Emma tries to adjust to the strain on her neck, and gives one last, sharp tug before releasing her. While Emma's head falls forward again, the brunette decides to put her hand to better use and starts rolling and pinching her own nipple, watching Emma's eyes become hooded.

The hair-pulling might have been in anger, but Emma's body responds to it nevertheless, a distraction that Regina is quick to take advantage of. She makes her gasps more audible as she pushes into herself; she shifts her knees farther apart to encourage Emma's gaze to flicker to her fingers, to watch as they slide into her; she lets her chest heave more fully, all but inviting Emma to help herself.

This is what Emma asked her to do, and she's going to do it. She is going to put on a show and then Emma is going to leave and take her unwanted words with her. She doesn't allow Emma into her bed for the aspect of conversation. It's time the blonde realizes that.

Emma is aware of what Regina is doing, knows that the Mayor doesn't want to hear what she has to say. Is it because she already knows? Is she already aware that she really is no better than Emma when it comes to one another and sex? Even so, that's never stopped Regina from calling her out, from trying to shame her.

Emma rakes her eyes over Regina's body one more time before looking her in the eye.

"You tell me to go, then you kiss me. You tell me I'm not allowed to fuck you, then you wrap your legs around me. I tell you to touch yourself and you barely even hesitate to spread yourself for me. And _I'm _the one being called out for lack of self-restraint?" Emma's eyes flash with knowing. "In reality, Madam Mayor, you're no better than me, are you?"

Regina's face becomes inscrutable, her eyes penetrating into Emma's. She absorbs Emma's words, spoken with a hard determination. She shouldn't have to put up with this, with Emma's reasons, her implications, her thoughts of why Regina is weak. She refuses to accept any of it. The stupid girl is just twisting things around... warping those situations to fit her own invalid perceptions. Everything that has happened tonight, happened because she _allowed _them to. Not because she couldn't exert any control over herself; she is above such weak-willed frivolity. The accusations alone are absurd enough for Regina to not even dignify them with further thought.

Emma is only slightly taken aback when Regina smiles at her. "Maybe I was just being a gracious host?" She is not going to give Emma the satisfaction of any sincere response.

"And you touch yourself for all your guests, do you?" Emma counters.

"Only the ones that put-out."

"So that leaves all of who? Me and Ruby?" Emma's mouth quirks.

Regina scoffs. "As if I would have that in my bed. Who knows how many diseases she's probably walking around with."

"Don't," Emma says firmly.

"Just something to keep in mind during those late night shifts together, Sheriff," Regina continues casually.

Emma shakes her head, this time all amusement gone. "God, why do you do that?"

"Do what?" She asks innocently. "I'm just being honest. I take my health very seriously, Ms. Swan. I am simply advising you to be aware of certain risks that lay in sleeping with multiple partners."

"Multiple partners? Really, Regina? You'd think I was hitting up half the residents in Storybrooke."

"Wouldn't put it past you."

"Now you're just being all snippy."

"Of course I'm snippy, you've been here for hours and I haven't come once." Regina honestly doesn't think she ever will. Her drive was lost the moment Emma voiced her accusations.

"Thought you weren't rushing yourself?" Emma mocks. "You know, because of all of that fortitude you possess."

"Enough," Regina uses the hand previously occupied with her breasts to shove Emma in the chest.

Emma sits back up, clearly taking the hint. "It's not fun, is it? Having someone taunt you, expose you, while you're doing what's only human."

Regina says nothing, draping an arm over her eyes to better ignore Emma's presence.

"Why won't you just admit that-"

"Be quiet," comes the sharp reply.

Emma can judge from the tone that it's best if she stops pushing, so she shuts her mouth and just observes. After a few moments the atmosphere begins to turn awkward, at least from her standpoint. She's sitting there, doing nothing, while Regina frustratedly tries to get herself off. With Regina not even wanting to look at her, Emma feels that she's not so much an audience as she is a pervert, spying on a private moment but without the allure or the appeal that it should bring under this circumstance. As she watches Regina, she finds that she's not even getting aroused anymore, and it's then that she realizes that the forces behind their actions today have dissipated, are barely running on fumes at this point. Regina's only doing this because she's resigned herself to it, and Emma's watching for the same reason. Neither of them have won tonight.

The game has broken.

An exasperated sigh comes from Regina as she stops her hand completely.

Emma stays quiet, waiting for Regina's next move.

Regina takes a deep, ragged breath, bringing her hand up to rest against her stomach. "Congratulations, Ms. Swan, you have officially killed the mood."

Emma's mouth drops open. Of course all the blame would fall on her. "Seriously? You're going to blame me? You're the one covering your eyes and acting like this is some sort of obligation."

"You talk too much," Regina responds tiredly, still under the cover of her arm.

"I wasn't saying anything just a few moments ago," Emma defends.

"The damage was already done."

Emma fights the urge to roll her eyes at the melodrama and focuses on how defeated Regina sounds, how utterly deflated she looks. She feels a twinge of guilt twist in her stomach and she hates herself for it. All this work and Regina's got nothing to show for it. She can't believe she actually feels bad for her when the woman is only sulking because Emma turned the tables on her. But she can't just leave her like this; Emma prides herself on her performance, abandoning Regina now would just be bad press.

"How about you let me use my mouth for something other than talking?" Emma tries to sound suggestive instead of downright irritated, knowing the latter emotion will just make things worse. She scoots between Regina's legs again and lays over her, gently moving the brunette's hand off to the side. Regina doesn't answer, just sighs, and Emma pushes her annoyance aside as she leans down to lick at Regina's throat.

"Hmm?" She asks again, her licks turning into open-mouthed kisses against the damp skin pulsing against her lips. Still no answer, but she notices the slight uptake in the rise and fall of Regina's chest and chooses to take that as a sign to continue.

She trails her mouth down lower, skirting her tongue over the smooth contours of her collarbone and gently sucking. As she moves to the other side, she lets her hand trail across the soft skin beneath Regina's breasts, running just the tips of her fingers lazily back and forth before letting them glide across the expanse of her supple stomach. She then kisses her way down Regina's chest, letting her teeth graze occasionally and becoming satisfied when it elicits a shiver. She doesn't go straight for Regina's nipples, but instead takes the time to move her mouth around the breasts completely, offering them something other than Emma's usual gruffness with them. She lightly licks and sucks at the skin, feeling the goosebumps form against her lips as the air hits the wet trails left on Regina's body.

Regina begins to squirm slightly as Emma's fingers get closer to their mark and Emma feels Regina has been teased enough, so she easily slides her fingers through warm folds, rubbing back and forth a few times. After a few strokes, Regina finally responds, her hips lifting to increase pressure of the touch in a see-sawing motion as she groans appreciatively. Emma then enters her with two fingers, adding a third finger on the next stroke as she presses her thumb firmly against Regina's clit. Regina's arm swings back from her face to clutch at the sheets with a sharp cry and Emma adds to the sudden pressure by taking a nipple into her mouth and alternately sucking and nibbling on it in quick movements.

Regina's back arches as she begins rolling her hips desperately against the hand buried between her legs. Normally, she would be embarrassed by how fast she escalates, but her body has been ready for so damn long. She threads a hand through Emma's hair, this time not yanking or pulling, but simply holding her to her chest. "Harder," she gasps, and Emma isn't sure if she's talking about her fingers or her mouth, so she pushes her fingers in at a rougher pace and bites down simultaneously.

Regina jerks and whimpers, and Emma can only take that as a good sign as she uses her other hand to grip Regina's thigh and hook her leg clumsily around her waist, fucking her at a more frantic pace. "God, yes," meets her ears as Regina's hand claws its way down her back.

She hisses at the contact, but remains proud of herself for not biting Regina's nipple off. She releases it just to be on the safe side and brings her hand up from Regina's thigh to start squeezing Regina's other breast.

She lays her forehead against Regina's chest as her hands work feverishly, feeling every gasp taken, every cry emitted. She almost considers herself a conductor in this moment, working her fingers just right to draw out the perfect note, playing Regina's body to a tune of her own making.

Regina's moans become louder and more frequent as Emma concentrates on twisting and curling her fingers within her, and her body begins to tremble. "God, we should have just done this to begin with," Emma mumbles against Regina's skin. She could kick herself for how much time they both wasted with dumb games and tired power-plays. All those concepts had managed to do was make them more frustrated, and not in the good sense.

Regina grunts and Emma assumes that's her way of saying 'I agree'. Of course she would agree, Emma's three fingers deep in her twat. Who wouldn't be agreeing with that kind of knuckled luxury?

The fingers in Emma's hair tighten and fresh lines are carved down her back when Regina loses all sense of rhythm and randomly begins jerking against Emma's body. She hears Regina muttering something and listens intently to pick up on it while her fingers are repeatedly gripped in strong throbbing pulses.

"Don't stop... don't stop... don't stop..."

Emma understands the barely coherent words after a few moments. While these words are common in any such setting, she knows they're not common for Regina and she's not saying them lightly.

Does Regina really think she would stop now? Take this opportunity for the ultimate revenge? She has a list of reasons of why she should, but also an enormous book of reasons – her risk of death being in the top 5 – of why she shouldn't. Besides, acting on the impulse to pull away would seem almost like... a betrayal. Emma stuck her neck out in an attempt to give Regina's body what it needed, and Regina's doing the same thing now by asking this of her. Regina didn't turn her away in a fit of self-reliance and Emma's not going to turn Regina away now.

"I'm not, I won't," she reassures, turning head to the side so Regina can hear her better. "I did not spend this obnoxious amount of time in your bed to have you not come around my fingers, Madam Mayor."

She receives another moan in response before it lifts off into a strangled sound and everything stills, becomes strained.

Then with one final jerk of her hips, Emma does indeed feel her prize. She keeps her fingers in place through Regina's aftershocks, letting the other woman ride out every bit of pleasure she can get.

Only when the shudders and the throbbing have subsided does Emma remove her hand and place it somewhere out of the way so she can rest fully on top of Regina, their sweaty skin clinging together quite unattractively.

Emma knows her weight can't feel too comfortable, but she would rather be here than risk rolling off into a wayward wet spot. She just needs a couple of minutes to recover and regain the feeling in her arm and she'll be off.

She becomes almost lulled from riding the deep, gentle waves of Regina's chest as the brunette's lungs fill with much-needed air, becoming less demanding over time as the heartbeat beneath Emma's ear calms. She feels the claws retracting from her back, untangling themselves from her hair, and the lack of added heat from Regina's limbs causes her to shiver in the suddenly very chilly bedroom. __We can never have sex __under __the covers, can we?__

As a second shiver runs through her, Emma comes to the thought that perhaps it's best that she cut her recovery time and instead focus on finding her clothes. Before she's able to pluck up the courage to expose the rest of her body to the frigidness of the air, she's caught off guard by two hands gently settling themselves over her upper body, fingers splaying out over the expanse.

Their warmth is so immediate and feels so good that Emma relaxes even more into the body beneath hers, letting some of the cold be chased away while not giving a thought to the surprising, yet not entirely unexpected gesture. Regina's always a little nicer right after she comes. Emma's learned not to question it. Especially if it means she gets to feel this comfortable. She sighs contentedly, glad the night didn't end on too bad of a note.

As she's basking in the warmth of the body beneath her, the voices start chattering in her head again, firing up as her predicament truly registers. She realizes her actions haven't exactly been screaming 'indifference', the promise to herself having all but faded into the background, but for once she doesn't feel any worse because of it. Her and Regina appear to have found their footing again. In the end, they were able to leave the stupid games behind and just... fuck. It was the way they had worked in the beginning of their arrangement – sneak in, fuck, sneak out – before real life started to bleed into the bedroom: Emma with her stubborn streak and issues with authority figures, and Regina with her controlling, and most times awful, personality.

She's finding herself idly wondering if they've managed to get back to that simplicity, back to that all familiar routine, when she feels the warmth peeling away from her. Immediately missing it, she picks her head up to peer at the other woman.

It's too dark to clearly make out her expression from this angle, but no light is needed to hear the quiet murmur of, "It's getting late, Ms. Swan."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Sorry for the choppiness and the general over-kill theme of the scene, I didn't feel comfortable glossing over certain sequences. Also, no offense was intended for those with venereal diseases or for anything that could be construed as slut-shaming. I am writing the characters' attitudes and perceptions and, with any writing, those opinions expressed do not necessarily reflect my own.

Please let me know what you thought of the chapter. Thank you for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: I am absolutely_ floored_ by the reviews I have received. Thank you very much for taking the time to leave them, and for the alerts as well. This story wouldn't have been continued without the support everyone has shown. Thank you, again.

Any and all mistakes are mine.

* * *

><p>"Emma?"<p>

Nothing.

"Emmmmaaaa," comes the drawn out whisper.

A grunt is Ruby's only response and she smiles down at the sleeping Sheriff. When she first pulled up to the Sheriff's Station she had expected a better welcome than the sight of the blonde figure currently slumped over a stack of manila folders, dead to the world. But she'd be lying if she didn't admit that the sight was a bit... cute. Emma obviously didn't take well to Monday mornings.

Deciding to let Emma rest just a little longer, Ruby busies herself by taking a quick tour of the place. She saunters around the desks, running her finger idly along the dust-covered furniture as she goes, vaguely wondering what could have possibly kept Emma so occupied on a Sunday night – of all evenings – to cause her to sleep on the job.

She smirks as she passes the jail cells before circling around the rest of the station, coming to a halt at what she supposes is her own desk. It looks as if it had attempted to be cleaned – swipe marks and smudges adorning the surface – so she lays claim to it by dropping her purse onto it with a thunk, then spins the chair around experimentally before settling herself in it. She spins around once more, then wheels herself until she's positioned directly behind the desk, letting her arms rest on it in a sharp, executive manner.

She adopts various poses: tilting her head one way and then the other, planting her index finger and thumb on her chin in thought, contorting her features into lines of seriousness, lacing her fingers together as if in prayer. Excitement builds continuously within her after each change in posture. Finally, she thinks, a job where she will be taken seriously, a place where her grandmother can't breathe down her neck and scold her for every little thing, every second of the day.

What she will miss, though, is the attire that came with working as a waitress. Not to say that waitresses were required to bare as much skin as she insisted on. What had started as a way to gain more tips had quickly become an outlet, a way for her to express herself, her personality. She was not afraid to admit that she was a very sexual being, and saw no shame in flaunting her body. She wasn't going to let the small, conservative town of Storybrooke cow her into being reserved, quiet, unnoticed – everything she wasn't.

She looks down at her outfit now and, even though the blouse and slacks aren't what she is accustomed to, she feels a sense of pride. She may not mind showing herself off, but that doesn't mean she can't appreciate the more professional side of clothing. She wouldn't mind giving the uniform a go, that's for sure.

"See you've made yourself at home," Emma slurs, walking out of her office and stretching her arms high above her head. Emma grimaces at the action, her skin protesting as it stretches across the expanse of her back.

"Oh!" Ruby jumps, spinning around in her chair. "Yes! Sorry. I didn't want to wake you, so I figured I would go ahead and get my bearings."

"It's fine, it's fine," Emma murmurs, waving her hand dismissively as she glances around the place herself. "So... what do you think," she asks, swinging her arms out in a showroom manner as she gestures around the dingy station.

Ruby smiles wide, looking around with a nod of her head. "It's great!"

Emma drops her arms, spotting the lie immediately. "It's because of the filth, isn't it?"

"There is a smell," Ruby readily admits, her smile more genuine. Emma laughs and shrugs her shoulders, pulling up a chair on the other side of the desk and planting herself into it.

"But actually having a job worth bragging about is fantastic and I cannot thank you enough, Emma," Ruby gushes, the scent of mildew and stale air not enough of a deterrent to keep her from feeling grateful.

"I should be thanking you, you're doing me a hell of a favor here," Emma sighs.

"You'll probably be eating your words by the end of the day, Sheriff," Ruby jokes, not wanting Emma's expectations to get too high. She's plenty confident in her abilities, but being Deputy is quite a step up from what she had been doing previously.

"No, really," Emma assures. "If it wasn't for you I'd more than likely be stuck with Sidney, and he'd be too busy snooping around to be of any actual help around here." He would have actually been a good candidate if he used his spying prowess for good, Emma thinks reluctantly. She would have hired him in a heartbeat for his detective skills alone if he wasn't so tainted with the dregs of Regina's influence.

"Not to mention I'm better to look at," Ruby teases. "Even if I am all covered up."

"True, very true," Emma concedes around a yawn.

"So did you sleep here all night or something?" Ruby asks, noticing more of Emma's disheveled appearance now that she is sitting in front of her.

"Hmm? Oh, no. Just didn't get much sleep last night is all."

Ruby smiles again, this time more mischievously. "And why would that be, Sheriff?"

Emma cocks an eyebrow at her. "Now that is a story better saved for off the clock."

"Ohh, I see," Ruby nods, clearly amused, but accepting the dismissal.

By 'off the clock', Emma does indeed mean 'never'. She doesn't make it a habit to share the goings-on in her life, and she's pretty confident in the fact that Ruby knows this, so she doesn't expect to be hounded for details, which sets her at ease. Ruby may be a bit of a gossip, but that doesn't mean she isn't aware of boundaries... most of the time.

"Can I?" Ruby asks, placing a hand tentatively on a drawer.

"Have at it, Deputy."

Ruby excitedly begins rooting around in the drawers of her new desk, pulling out old food wrappers here and there, and rearranging the contents that consist mostly of old pens and empty folders. Emma, meanwhile, stretches her legs out and props them up on the rickety work station, mentally ticking off a list of stuff she needs to get done today, and winces as the chair presses stiffly into her back. The material of her shirt scrapes none-too-gently against the deep scratches she sustained a mere few hours prior as she tries to shift in as subtle a manner as she can, her bra not helping matters as it rubs and digs mercilessly against the raw skin inflaming her spine.

Ruby glances at her, catching her eye, and at Emma's blush, she represses a small smile and chooses to pretend she doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. Her curiosity is definitely piqued now, but she's determined to be professional and not devolve into her waitressing persona. This isn't the diner, it's the Sheriff's Station. She is a deputy now. A member of law enforcement. Ruby pauses in her task of cleaning out the next drawer on the row as the thought hits her.

_I'm a deputy._

She's gone from cleaning up greasy tabletops to having her own desk, from putting up with the more unfriendly citizens of Storybrooke to having some authority over them, from wearing a stupid name tag to wearing a badge, from – wait.

"When do I get my badge?" Ruby suddenly asks, startling Emma out of her current predicament of finding a casual way to sit without pain flaring up the length of her back.

"Oh, yeah, right." Emma gladly gets up and heads to her office to dig through her own messy desk. As she's searching – making sure Ruby's back is still to her – she hurriedly untucks her shirt and slips her hands up the back of it, unclasping her bra. She maneuvers her arms a bit, and removes the offending object out from under the thin green button-up she had chosen for today, and stuffs it in the bottom-most drawer. She sighs in relief, already making a note to steal some of Mary-Margaret's salts and oils to use tonight in a scalding hot bath she already has planned for herself. The rushed shower this morning did not do her body justice. She opens another drawer and quickly finds what she's looking for.

Upon her return, she spins Ruby's chair around to face her and sweeps her arm out to the side with a small bow, then extends her other arm out in front of Ruby, the deputy's badge glinting dully in the palm of her hand.

"It would be an honor," Emma drawls with a grin.

"Oh, but the honor is mine," Ruby plays along, daintily plucking the object from Emma's hand and inspecting it in the light as though it were an engagement ring. "It's not as polished as I was hoping it would be, but I suppose it will have to do," she continues, turning her nose up at it, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"Well, let's see what we can't do about that," Emma responds with mock-determination, snatching the badge out of Ruby's hand. She peers at it for a moment, then brings it up to her mouth to spit on it. Ruby's mouth drops open and she can't stop the laughter from escaping as Emma uses the tail-end of her shirt to clean it.

"How is that?" Emma questions, the little star gleaming more brightly now as she places it on the desk in exaggerated triumph.

"My hero," Ruby coos.

She picks the badge up by its edges and and begins to admire it, this time with more sincerity as she sighs. "Really, Emma," she whispers, looking up at the blonde. "Thank you." Even though Ruby still has her own paperwork to fill out before her new position becomes official, feeling the weight of the metal plate and leather clip in her hand makes Ruby appreciate the responsibility and leadership of her role more than any packet of paper ever could.

Emma blinks, the seriousness of Ruby's gratitude throwing her for a few seconds before she responds with a quiet, "You're welcome," and heads back into her office with the excuse of needing to get Ruby's forms together and such.

Emma closes the door and moves to sit behind her desk, pulling out papers noncommittally with hardly a glance and setting them back down in some messy corner; not so much getting forms together as mindlessly shuffling papers back and forth to give her hands something to do while her brain absorbs this newfound feeling of... what?

She doesn't know why she's letting Ruby's simple thanks get to her, letting it coil into a little ball of warmth in her stomach. While she has been thanked for many things in the past – none of them she wishes to think about – she has never had any sincere gratitude pointed in her direction. It was strange hearing the words spoken aloud when they weren't fastened with sarcasm, or frozen in the icy timbres of a hardened tone. It wasn't as if she had ever done anything of value in her life to warrant acknowledgment of any genuine regard anyway.

But, not for the first time since she's arrived in Storybrooke, she feels the lazy strings the town had roped around her begin to tighten, pull her in, step by step. While her feet don't drag the ground as much as they initially used to, she knows that she will always feel that hesitance, that resistance, to the idea of attachment, and the scary thoughts and emotions that come with it. Unlike Henry's tales, she knows that the end result of forming a bond with someone, anyone, doesn't limit itself to happily ever afters, at least not when Emma is involved.

Growing up in the foster system, she had bore witness to all sorts of displays: love, passion, friendship, hate, resentment, loathing. Whether it was between the foster parents or the other kids in the group homes, she had observed first-hand how loving someone, trusting someone, could open someone up enough to have that one person they loved and trusted know how to completely and ultimately destroy them.

Needless to say, she was surrounded more by the hate, crippling resentment, and lowest form of loathing throughout her childhood, even if these emotions weren't directed specifically at her.

She takes a deep breath and sets about actually pulling the forms together, glancing up at Ruby every now and then. Emma had brushed off the idea of any true friendship with the citizens here, no matter how long she meandered around them, talked to them, laughed with them, lived with them. She gave up trying to make friends years ago, didn't feel it was worth the effort. People either fell into step with her or they didn't. She has contacts in Boston, sure – people she can call up for favors and the like – but there isn't any real loyalty involved, no affection, no one who has her back. Perhaps that is beginning to change.

At the same time, she wants to roll her eyes at herself. _All Ruby said was 'Thank you', geez._ She shouldn't let the enticing notion of friendship, authentic and genuine, cloud her thoughts. Not when it all seemed so benign in the long run.

She's interrupted in her thoughts as Ruby spins around in her chair with a dramatic flourish. "Hurry up, slowpoke!" She exclaims, her eyes bright with excitement. "I wanna get deputized already!"

Emma grins, stapling the papers together before finally vacating her office. She walks up beside Ruby, kicking the arm of her chair until the brunette is facing the front of her desk once again, and drops the packet down with a heavy slap, plucking a pen from the newly-placed holder in the corner and handing it to Ruby with a quirk of her eyebrow.

"You ready for this?" Emma asks challengingly.

"You have no idea," Ruby smirks, snatching the pen from Emma's grasp. Ruby glances over the front page once before beginning to fill it out, a determined look on her face. Emma smiles again, feeling even more confident in her choice for the job. She knows Ruby will come through for her.

"Someone's eager," a low, velvety voice carries from the doorway. Ruby immediately whips her head around at the sound, while Emma seems to almost reluctantly turn in the direction of the intruder.

With Regina's tone, Emma had half-expected to see the Mayor leaning sensually on the frame of the door, deep smirk in place with a slimline between her long fingers. Instead she is met with a passive expression as Regina clasps her hands together in front of her, looking crisp and sharp as she steps into the room and takes calculating steps towards the desk where the two women are residing.

Seeing how put-together she looks makes Emma feel a little self-conscious and she wishes she had remembered to tuck her shirt back in; at least then her badge would be visible and she wouldn't look so much more like a run-of-the-mill suspect instead of the person running the place.

"Madam Mayor," Ruby acknowledges in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Regina's eyebrows lift, her face remaining otherwise emotionless. Ruby quickly catches herself. "Oh! I mean, I just didn't expe-"

"I know perfectly well what you meant, dear," Regina cuts across, her lips breaking out into a condescending smile, looking almost menacing, before she drops it and adopts her passive expression once again, turning to Emma.

"Sheriff, I-" Regina stops herself, giving Emma a quick once-over and taking in the scuffed boots, the jeans rumpling around the ridges of them as if they hadn't been tucked in properly, the wrinkled ends of her shirt, the hair hanging lank and tangled around her shoulders, and finally the slight redness of her eyes as they look upon her in narrowed disquiet.

"Sheriff Swan, what is the meaning of your attire?" Regina asks, her tone reproving.

Emma looks down at herself fully – as if she needed another reminder that she looked like crap – and lazily begins to tuck her shirt back in as a last ditch effort to appear more presentable. "Just a little tired this morning is all," she comments irritably, really hoping not to get berated in front of Ruby on her first day. Especially over something that is partially Regina's fault.

"Oh?" Regina counters, her head tilting to the side. She glances down at Emma's unkempt appearance once again, suspicion creasing her brow as she gives a side-long look at Ruby.

Emma crosses her arms in front of herself, an attempt to own her space and also to conceal the fact that she's not wearing a bra. Looking too undone in the presence of Ruby isn't exactly ideal. The last thing she needs today is to fan the flames of Regina's earlier accusation about Ruby trading sex to get the position. She won't allow Regina the satisfaction of thinking she's right for even a second.

She could point out that Regina's not 100% established in the 'Not Looking Thoroughly Fucked' department as she spots the dark tinge on Regina's bottom lip, but thinks better of it.

"What do you want, Madam Mayor," Emma deflects, feeling herself begin to fully awaken under Regina's wandering stare.

Regina's eyes snap back to hers, the brunette's lips pursing briefly in agitation. "As Mayor of Storybrooke, I felt it was my duty to visit the town's new employee on her first day. It's supposed to be meant as a gesture of support, to further solidify the foundation of fellowship on which Storybrooke was built."

Emma rolls her eyes, rocking back on her heels. She'll eat her own shirt if any of that bullshit is true.

"But I can see that not all parties are being as cooperative," Regina states, a note of mock disappointment in her voice as she allows herself to look discouraged. Emma doesn't buy it, but realizes that the show isn't meant for her as Ruby takes the bait.

"Oh, no! Madam Mayor, I – we – fully appreciate the, um, gesture," Ruby is quick to supply. "Thank you for taking the time to come down here. I'm, uh, just filling out the paperwork now," she continues, trying to force a bright smile.

Emma sighs in irritation, whether for Ruby being so good-natured to the point of being naive or for Regina playing to the girl's obvious sympathies with authority-pleasing, she doesn't know.

"It was no trouble, I was just-" Regina shoots a snide look at Emma before recovering "doing my job," she finishes, her smile sweet instead of malicious this time. "We're glad to have you aboard, Ruby."

Ruby smiles back, this time not having to will it forward. "Thank you, Madam Mayor. I'm glad to be here."

"Your contribution to the safety and well-being of Storybrooke will mean a great deal to the citizens that place their trust and assurances in you. Ms. Swan, in my opinion, has made an excellent choice in selecting you for this very important job," Regina continues, letting her hip casually rest against the desk as she gives Ruby her full attention, at the same time commanding attention of her own.

Emma scowls and crosses her arms more tightly against herself, willing herself not to vomit from the show being put on before her.

"I... that's very kind of you to say, Madam Mayor," Ruby stammers, flustered. "I'll do my best not to let you, or the town, down."

"Nonsense," Regina dismisses with a wave of her hand, gentle smile in place, before leaning forward conspiratorially. "Now, as Deputy, you are not required to attend the monthly Town Council meetings, but please-" she places her hand on Ruby's arm then, "feel welcome to attend, and-"

"You can save the speech, I've already explained everything," Emma cuts in, not sure of Regina's tactics as she eyes the hand resting lightly on Ruby's arm. She hasn't exactly explained much of anything to Ruby yet, but as far as Emma knows, Regina doesn't normally 'support' anyone but herself, let alone visit them as some sort of metaphorical good luck punch on the arm.

"Emma, it's fine," Ruby says, looking taken aback by the blonde's gruffness. Emma returns the look at Ruby's complaisance. Emma had expected some form of camaraderie between herself and Ruby, at least in regards to Regina. Was she actually buying into Regina's words?

"Well, if you've already been brought up to speed, then I shall be on my way," Regina concedes suddenly, straightening herself. "Once you've finished filling that out," she gestures to the packet, "be sure to bring it by my office, Deputy." She finishes in a honeyed-tone, making the hairs on the back of Emma's neck stand on end.

"Of course, Madam Mayor," Ruby nods importantly.

Regina gives Ruby one last smile before letting it contort into a subtle smirk as her gaze lands on Emma, who can do nothing but glare at Regina's backside as the brunette turns around and strolls purposefully across the linoleum, exiting the building.

A silence fills the room as Emma continues looking out of the doorway that the Mayor just left through, trying to figure out her game. At Regina's sudden arrival, she had fully expected the cold demeanor with which Regina greeted Ruby, but to do an about-face and suddenly start feeding her the company line... maybe a little too enthusiastically? Regina must be working an angle. Emma's eyes narrow at the thought.

"You okay?" Ruby questions, seeing the look on Emma's face.

Emma turns her glare to Ruby, letting the sudden anger bubble up over the warm, pleasant feeling Ruby had instilled in her earlier.

Ruby's eyes widen. "What? What did I do?"

At Ruby's frown, Emma gets control of herself. She knows she has no reason to be angry with Ruby, isn't even aware of where most of the anger towards her is stemming from, so she sighs and moves to sit in the chair she had previously been occupying.

"Nothing," Emma replies. "It's... just nothing."

She gingerly leans back and smiles reassuringly to cover the grimace as her nerves flare up again.

Ruby doesn't look convinced.

"Look, Emma, I know you don't like Mayor Mills, and that you guys have a rocky relationship," she sits up straighter and gives Emma a serious look, "but I'm Deputy now. This is my first real – I don't know – chance? to prove that I'm more than just a gossipy waitress, you know?"

Emma opens her mouth to say something, but Ruby holds up a finger.

"And I can't let personal riffs between you and the Mayor get in the way of that," she says kindly. "I know she's a hardass, but that doesn't mean she doesn't deserve the respect that comes with her title. I don't know what all is between you two, but I hope you understand that... I'm a professional now, I can't get drawn into whatever it is, or pick sides. People are depending on me now." Her eyes are practically pleading for Emma to understand, and the Sheriff feels a low rumble of guilt roll through her stomach.

She doesn't like the fact that Regina has played Ruby, to an end that Emma herself doesn't quite grasp yet, or that Ruby has seemingly fallen for it, but if Ruby wants to experience everything on her own, without Emma's bias, then she supposes she has a right to. No point in dragging Ruby into the tempestuous work-relationship between her and Regina if she can help it.

She would have preferred it if Regina had regarded Ruby with cold indifference, but she wonders if she's only thinking that because she wants to keep Ruby out of the line of fire from Regina's possible manipulations, or if she's being selfish and just wants another ally in the face of Mayoral authority.

"You're right," Emma admits, giving Ruby an apologetic smile. "How about we get back to business?" She nods her head toward the packet and is met with another one of Ruby's grins.

A part of her wants to believe that maybe she is just being paranoid about Regina's ulterior motives, but a bigger part of herself knows that Regina wasn't just being friendly for the hell of it. Instead of bullying Ruby into seeing the light, she'll simply have to go to the source and cut Regina off at the pass.

XXXXX

Ruby anxiously awaits Emma's final signatures on her employment form, getting more excited with each turn of the page and scratch of the pen as her knees continuously bounce.

Emma, in the meantime, hurries to scrawl across the papers, knowing that Ruby is close to bursting. She feels the desk shaking in a rhythmic pulse as Ruby fights to keep herself under control, and smiles as she marks off the last page.

"Alright, you're all done," Emma says, closing the packet with a flourish. "Welcome aboard, Deputy- um," with a horrible jolt, Emma realizes that she doesn't know Ruby's last name. She could flick through the forms in front of her but she doesn't want to appear too obvious. She feels even worse because she just got through signing her name 10,000 times right below Ruby's.

She coughs and clears her throat. "Deputy Ruby," she finishes.

To her relief, Ruby beams and doesn't appear to notice Emma's slip-up. "Thank you, Sheriff. Now if you don't mind, I'll just take this-" Ruby makes to grab for the packet, "and head on over to-" but Emma snatches it off the desk.

"Hey!" Ruby shouts teasingly, stretching her hand out across the desk and wiggling her fingers. "Give it!"

Emma smiles, this time more sheepishly, as she gets up out of her chair and heads to pick her jacket up off the coat rack.

"Emma?" Ruby questions, her amusement fading as her eyes follow the blonde's movements.

"Sorry, Rubes," Emma offers, slipping one arm and then the other into the familiar material. "I'm gonna be running it over to the Mayor. Not you."

"But she asked for me," Ruby frowns, confusion evident in her voice.

"Yeah, well..." Emma trails off, disappearing into her office to grab her keys. She briefly thinks about digging her bra out of her desk drawer and stuffing it in her jacket to maybe put back on in the car, but Ruby's staring at her now, quite bemused, so she shoves that idea off the board and makes her way back over to the brunette.

"Look, I just need to talk to her real quick. You won't be missing anything. I'll even bring you back an ice cream or something," Emma says, trying to lighten the mood.

Ruby stares at her for a few seconds before half-heartedly rolling her eyes. "Ugh, fine," she says playfully.

"Well, that was easy," Emma jokes, making her way toward the exit to avoid Ruby's swat.

"You're just lucky I still have to clean out my work hazard of a desk or I would so be coming with you!" Ruby calls out.

"Uh huh. See ya in a few," Emma calls back, turning the corner.

She's gone barely 2 seconds before she pops her head back around. "Oh, what flavor do ya want?"

"You seriously don't know me well enough to know that by now?" Ruby chides.

"Come on," Emma pries impatiently.

"Anything but vanilla," Ruby answers with a wink.

XXXXX

"How can I help you?"

"Hey, Gladys. Here to see the Mayor, she's expecting me... sorta."

"And your name?" She asks, giving Emma a cold look.

"Emma Swan, Gladys," she states flatly. Seriously, the secretary probably sees Emma more often than her own kids – or grandkids, Emma muses, her eyes narrowing as she tries to pinpoint the older woman's age – so there's no sense in always being asked her name. She wouldn't be surprised if Regina ordered her employee to do it, using it as another way to make Emma feel further detached from the town or something.

"Mayor Mills? I have an Emma Swan here to see you."

Emma taps her fingers on the counter, wondering why she still bothers jumping through this hoop. Whether she's allowed entry or not, she's going in regardless. Who would stop her? Gladys? She's confident one solid hip-check would knock the woman out of commission for a good day and a half.

"She's finishing up with another appointment; she will be ready for you in 15 minutes time," the secretary dutifully answers. The woman looks up at her, no doubt about to point sternly in the direction of the waiting chairs, and immediately blanches at Emma's hard, scrutinizing gaze.

They stare at each other for a long moment, Emma seeming to size her up, while the secretary continues to look perplexed and a little apprehensive.

"Thank you, Gladys," she finally drawls, pursing her lips as she stalks off to sit in one of the chairs lined up against the wall to wait.

Emma's not exactly the most patient person, but she feels she can hold off for 15 minutes. She crosses her arms and sits with her legs wide, her knee bouncing impatiently as the seconds tick by. She looks up at the ceiling, then over to the cream-colored walls, then down to the floor – her eyes following the same pattern around the room as she lets out a sigh.

Before long, she begins to feel physically uncomfortable; the natural warmth of her jacket combined with the heat radiating off of her back causing her to sweat within its confines. After a couple more minutes, she finally shrugs the article of clothing off and unsticks the slightly damp shirt from her back, grateful for the fresh air wafting against her skin. She notices Gladys' barely concealed look of revulsion and scowls in the secretary's direction.

"What? Like you don't get hot flashes?" She snarls.

The two women continue shooting sour looks at each other whenever they get within each other's eyeline, and after another long moment, Emma decides she's had enough. A frustrated huff is Gladys' only warning before Emma grabs Ruby's employment form and jerks out of her seat, heading for the doors to Regina's office.

"Excuse me! She's not ready for you yet!" Gladys – absolutely scandalized by this point – shouts indignantly.

"As if she actually has anyone in there anyway," Emma grumbles, reaching for the door handle and casting a glance over her shoulder to make sure Gladys didn't morph into some form of Mayoral linebacker.

While she had been deflecting Gladys' glares with her own when she was seated, Emma had come to the conclusion that Regina most likely didn't have anyone in her office and was just making Emma wait for no other reason than her own enjoyment. Regina was probably miffed that it was Emma's presence outside of her office, instead of Ruby's, and was leaving her out in the hall to stew as penance.

Emma flings the door wide, practically stomping over the threshold, and feels a mixed wave of anger and victory roll over her.

"A-ha!" She finds herself saying, surveying the office and discovering it devoid of any persons except for herself and a rather annoyed-looking Mayor. "I knew you didn't have another appointment in here. You were just being petty." Her chest puffs out and she rests a hand on her hip, fingering the ridges of her badge automatically, as she looks at Regina with a smug sneer.

Regina holds a finger up, her gaze dark as she glares at the blonde.

"Thank you, Mr. Schuto. I'll have my secretary send over the reports at your convenience."

Emma's posture deflates considerably as she finally takes notice of the device nestled against Regina's ear. _Son of a bitch. _She can already feel her face begin to heat up in embarrassment. This is just great, she thinks ruefully, it's not even noon yet and she's already made an ass of herself.

"Have a nice day as well, Mr. Schuto. Goodbye." Regina quickly disconnects the call and the pleasant tone of voice she had used for the man on the other end of the line all but evaporates. "What is the meaning of this, Ms. Swan?" She demands.

"I told her not to go in!" The secretary says breathlessly from the doorway.

"Oh, shut up, Gladys," Emma spits, turning around to glare at the older woman who begins heaving with fresh vexation.

Regina sighs. "Just close the door," she gestures to the secretary. Gladys looks like she wants to retort, but thinks better of it and does as she's told, sending Emma one last look of contempt before the door clicks shut.

"Why do you insist on harassing my employees?" Regina asks, turning her attention to a stack of papers on her desk.

"I wasn't harassing anyone," Emma defends, walking across the pristine floor of the office until she's standing in front of Regina's desk. "You could use friendlier clerks," she suggests, dropping Ruby's file with a slap in front of the brunette.

"Says the woman who insists on calling my secretary by the wrong name," Regina counters, throwing the packet off to the side.

"What are you talking about? Her name's Gladys," Emma says, confusion creasing her brow as she throws a thumb out behind her in the vague direction of the reception desk.

Regina looks up at her and merely lifts an eyebrow as she shakes her head, indicating that Emma is clearly wrong on that point. "Helen," she corrects.

"Oh... well, close enough," Emma shrugs off, not finding it within her to feel too terribly guilty. Although that does explain some of the woman's hostility towards her.

"You can make your leave now, Ms. Swan," Regina says tiredly, tapping the end of her pen against the papers Emma brought in, an acknowledgment that Emma has done what she came for. "Hopefully next time you'll prove to be more patient, so as to save yourself the embarrassment you constantly seem to find yourself swimming in," she tacks on, seemingly not being able to help herself.

Emma's chuckle is mirthless as she responds, "What? No lecture for me not knocking before entering?"

"I would, but I'd rather not keep you any longer. You have a new deputy to look after, do you not?" Emma is just able to make out Regina's smirk before the other woman turns her attention to other matters.

Emma feels goosebumps trail up her back in foreboding.

"Yeah... about that," Emma intones, watching Regina closely. "What was with that whole dog and pony show you pulled with her earlier?"

"I have no idea what you're referring to," Regina states innocently, assembling papers across the length of her desk.

"Cut the crap, Regina," Emma says sharply, her impatience flaring back up.

Regina smirks again, this time not bothering to try to hide it, as she looks up at Emma fully.

"It bothers you, doesn't it?" She asks, her eyes dancing with amusement. "That she holds me in higher regard than you, her dear friend."

"It doesn't bother me, what with that being a job requirement and all," Emma shoots back, not letting the sting affect her.

"Not necessarily. You're proof of that," Regina tilts her head knowingly.

Emma shakes her head as she plants her hands on her hips. "Look, I don't know what kind of game you're playing here, but I don't want Ruby roped into it. Just leave her alone."

"I don't think you have any business in telling me what to do, Sheriff," Regina warns. "And I'm not roping anyone into anything. I was doing my job, welcoming her into the fold."

Emma scoffs, still not willing to wade into waters full of shit.

"It's not my fault that she seemed more than willing to please," Regina adds in an undertone, her voice taking on that familiar silken quality. "She's certainly a docile one, isn't she?"

Emma knows Regina is trying to rile her up, and she can feel it working as a flush creeps out to show on her skin, and the uneasy knot in her stomach tightens.

"What exactly are you trying to do? Be nice to her in the hopes of turning her into a spy? Or just enough to lure her into your bed?" Emma asks steadily.

Regina actually snorts at Emma's words. "I thought I told you once before that I have no interest in inviting garbage into my sheets," she says cruelly, her gaze piercing into Emma's. "Besides, that's more your style, isn't it?"

"Oh, not this again." Emma angrily turns from Regina, briefly pacing in front of the Mayor's desk before stopping in front of it again, her arms thrown in the air. "I'm not fucking Ruby!"

"Would you keep your voice down," Regina grounds out in annoyance, her gaze flickering over to the door.

"I'm not fucking Ruby," Emma says again, this time quieter but no less angry. "She got this job on her own merit, and even if I was sleeping with her, it wouldn't be any business of yours!"

Regina leans forward, her arms folding on the desk. "It is my duty to make sure the professionalism of the Sheriff's Station isn't compromised," she seethes, all traces of amusement vanishing.

"The prof-, oh please, you just pulled that out of your ass!" Emma huffs in disbelief.

"Your behavior today has been absolutely abhorrent," Regina states, mouth turned down. "I walk into the station this morning to find you almost completely undone, you treat me with little to no respect, in front of your subordinate, no less, then you insult my staff and barge into my office without permission. So you can see why my concerns are valid. I will not have my town muddied and seen as anything less than running efficiently, all because of your... proclivities."

"But none of that has anything to do with Ruby," Emma says quickly, aware that she's not exactly helping her character. "I've been insulting your staff and barging into your office for months. And I was only a mess this morning because of you!" She points an accusing finger at Regina. "And don't even get me started on _respect_."

"Casting the blame to me? Why am I not surprised?" Regina expresses lazily. "I suppose I'm also to blame for you not having the decency to at least wear a bra to work either?" She sneers.

Emma looks down, not even surprised by the nipples she sees greeting her. It's the chill of the room, she tells herself, before looking away.

"Actually, yes, you are," Emma states with determination, just waiting for Regina to challenge it.

"I can't wait to hear why you think so," Regina snarks, her curiosity belying the impatience she's trying to convey as she gives Emma another once-over.

"How about I show you?" Emma says gruffly, moving to unbutton her shirt after yanking the ends back out of her jeans.

Regina's eyes widen. "Ms. Swan, what do you think you're doing?" She stands up, her chair rolling a few feet behind her from the force, and her eyes fly once again to the doors. "This is not appropriate, and I must ask you to stop what you're doing."

"Take it easy, Madam Mayor," Emma placates, thinking the woman might actually leap across her desk and staple her shirt shut. "This'll take just a second."

"Ms. Swan-"

She finally undoes the last button and turns around, pulling the material from her shoulders and down her arms enough to show Regina the state of her back. She swings her hair out of the way, exposing the many, long, raw lines adorning her skin to the clean, cool air of the office.

"Satisfied?" She asks.

Emma is met with silence. At least she's managed to shut her up, Emma thinks. Regina certainly can't claim that Ruby did this to her, that's for damn sure.

The silence stretches on and Emma is about to pull her shirt back on – planning on looking smug when she faces Regina again – when she's startled by a cold touch pressing tentatively against the heat of her skin. She stands stock-still, feeling icy fingers roving over the path of first one line, then another. She shudders despite herself, relishing the contrast and subtle relief her skin feels at the contact.

Her eyes close and she drops her shirt lower without thinking, letting it hang from her wrists. She isn't disappointed as Regina roams lower, the tips of her fingers gliding down the length of her back in gentle, sweeping motions.

"So..." Regina voice has taken on a low, deep timbre, and Emma is startled again at the vocal intrusion. "It is because of me..." Emma feels the smirk in the brunette's voice and almost, just almost, regrets showing her the marks left upon her.

She shrugs off Regina's touch and pulls her shirt back up and over her shoulders. "Can't have Gladys walking in and getting an eyeful," Emma mumbles, moving a couple feet away from Regina as she begins to re-button. How they are so easily bringing the topics of last night up and turning Regina's office into a show-and-tell seminar is beyond Emma's level of care at the moment, but she can't help but feel that they need to rework their Vegas-agreement.

"Helen," Regina once again corrects, moving to sit on the edge of her desk as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened.

"Whatever," is Emma's murmured reply. When she's done, she faces Regina again, this time looking more exasperated than anything.

"Just tell me why."

"Why what, dear?"

"Why, when you've compared Ruby to garbage and called her a whore and... and said all of those awful things about her, why did you suddenly start indulging her? Acting like you actually gave a rat's ass?"

"I told you, I was doing-"

"Your job, yeah, yeah," Emma brushes off. "But you're never _that_ friendly for no reason."

"Are you always this paranoid, Ms. Swan?" Regina asks, her eyes gleaming.

"I'm always cautious, Madam Mayor." _When it comes to you_, left out but nonetheless felt as the tension begins to thicken around them.

"Be that as it may, I can assure you, I hold no belief that Ruby is competent enough to be used as a spy, of all things. I wouldn't waste my time."

Emma rolls her eyes, growing weary.

"I suppose you could say that I am merely... putting us on even ground," Regina continues, seemingly deciding to throw Emma a bone.

"Even ground?" Emma asks hesitantly.

"She may be your friend, Ms. Swan, but I have proven today that a little charisma can go a long way. I simply had to make sure that she wouldn't blindly fall in line with you. I can't have two deviants running the place."

It finally clicks for Emma. While Emma had assumed Ruby _would_ fall in line with her, Regina must have picked up on that assumption and set out to pull Ruby onto neutral grounds, playing to her eager-to-please attitude and taking away Emma's fuel as the Mayor placated Ruby and fed her what she wanted to hear. Now Emma just had to be sure that Regina wouldn't try to pull Ruby all the way over.

"You're still new. To this town, to Ruby. The girl has been wanting out from under her grandmother's thumb for years now. Finally gaining an opportunity, I have no doubt that she will be vigilant about keeping it. So vigilant, that she will learn to look up to my standards, not yours."

"I get it," Emma states coolly. "You're not wanting to turn her into a spy, you're wanting to turn her into another one of your puppets. Someone who will do whatever you say without challenging you as long as you smile and play nice."

Regina cocks an eyebrow but says nothing.

"And, what, you thought I was employing the same tactics by sleeping with her? Trying to get her on my side?" Emma continues, trying to fit the rest of the pieces together.

Regina gives her a small shrug, as if it wasn't her fault that she was led to that conclusion.

"You're unbelievable," Emma sounds incredulous as she once again puts her hands on her hips. She doesn't know why she expected, or perhaps even subtly wanted, Regina to think better of her, and the silent accusation gnaws at her.

"What was I supposed to think? I go in to greet the new deputy on her first day and I see you looking absolutely bedraggled. How was I supposed to know that that's how you normally dress for work?" Regina's lip curls unpleasantly.

"You know damn well why I look like hell!" Emma spits. "I was up half the fucking night with you, I couldn't sleep when I got home, my back's been sore all damn morning, and I've had to deal with you crawling up my ass about supposedly fucking someone when all of that was going on!"

Regina's voice is calm as, without missing a beat, she replies, "I was up just as long as you were, had to nurse my neck this morning-" she points to her turtleneck with a glower "-not to mention attempt to cover the mess you made here-" this time she points to her mouth, the mottled bottom lip still swollen with the bruise gracing its surface, "-and have had to deal with your continuous insolence today. Yet I managed to clean myself up, make myself presentable, and carry on. Was it really too much to expect for you to do the same? To set a good example? You're the Sheriff of Storybrooke, Ms. Swan. You should be acting like it."

Emma is fuming by this point. "Oh, I'm sorry, I guess my _professionalism_ just isn't up to par with yours, Your Majesty," Emma mocks, giving a small, sarcastic bow of her head. Not her best comeback, but she's too busy loathing Regina for just how right she is; Emma's excuses are hardly above the 'piss-poor' category. She supposes she should be lucky that Regina didn't walk in on her sleeping this morning.

"Watch yourself," Regina warns, her teeth clenching at the title as her arms fold more tightly against herself.

"No, you watch yourself, Regina," Emma says harshly, her courage rising as she changes the topic off of herself. "I don't want your hooks anywhere near Ruby, got it? She's not another citizen for you to manipulate, wear down, then spit back out. You may be able to charm some people into being your coat rack, but you're going to stay away from her. You don't have to control every aspect of this godforsaken town, so you're going to leave her the hell alone." Emma takes a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off of her shoulders at the same time another one settles in the pit of her stomach. Instead of letting it shrink her, pull her to the ground, she uses the energy and radiates it out from her being – letting the ominous heaviness of the cold stone resting within her mutate into a rapidly-forming blaze that floods her system.

"Ruby is her own person with her own issues. Just stop taking advantage of them because you think I'm, what? Trying to form a rebellion against you? Trying to use her to instigate more conflicts with you? You've proven your point today, alright? You have more..." and it irritates the hell out of her to admit it, "... sway with her when it comes to the job. But Ruby doesn't need you festering about in her life for her to do the job right. She will do just fine on her own without you or me trying to pull her in our separate directions. We are not going to pull her into the animosity between us."

The more people spared, the better, Emma thinks to herself.

A moment passes: Emma standing with a hard, determined posture and matching glare as she gazes defiantly at Regina, the brunette's impassive mask gleaming razor sharp back in her direction.

"I wasn't aware the girl had such a champion in her corner," Regina breathes after a long moment, barely audible over Emma's thundering heartbeat.

"Now you are," Emma says, just as quietly, but with a sharpened edge as her muscles begin to tense of their own volition.

Emma has the fleeting thought that perhaps _this_ is what loyalty feels like – to want to protect, to willingly put herself in the lion's path, to confront the very thing that poses a threat, to have a burgeoning roar wanting to rip its way out of her chest in a virile act of declaration that Regina will not, absolutely fucking not, poison Ruby with her acts of deception and manipulation. She keeps picturing Sidney – submissive, doting, one-sided, Sidney – with his dopey personality and stupid face as he willingly does whatever Regina wants, no matter the cost, and feels nauseous at the thought of Ruby becoming that. She won't let it happen.

Emma's chest swells with another deep intake of breath, letting the adrenaline wash over her. Of course, she's felt something like this before in the past, with Henry, before she realized that Regina didn't seek to manipulate Henry so much as get him to acknowledge her existence. But for the first time, she knows she can't pass it off as maternal obligation, can't cheat herself out of it with the knowledge that she shares the same blood. The realization is enough to make her smile somewhat.

Regina's eyes narrow, almost imperceptibly, in response to Emma's cascade of emotions, trying to foresee the blonde's next move as she absorbs the added layers of conviction in Emma's stance, in her words, in the solid way with which she holds herself. While she admires the strength in Emma, she also finds herself annoyed by it. Her actions weren't meant to be seen as a challenge, not this directly anyway. Was it really Regina's fault that Ruby turned out to be so deliciously... receptive? How was the Mayor supposed to resist?

She had expected the deputy to be acting as Emma's full-time lapdog, gallivanting around and lapping at her heels in grateful admiration and doing whatever Emma wished, and the thought of it sickened her to no end. The blonde was already a pain in her ass, a barely tolerable nuisance to this town, and she didn't think she could bear the thought of another one coming along.

But to her delight, Ruby had all but cast the Sheriff aside as soon as she started pulling the right strings. Gone, was Regina's expectation that Ruby would follow so willingly in Emma's footsteps, that she would treat her with the same hostility and disrespect that Emma so carelessly throws around in her presence, and Regina's brain had begun whirring; all sorts of possibilities cropped up in her mind as she felt that maybe she wouldn't lose all control of the law enforcement in Storybrooke after all.

That doesn't necessarily mean that she plans on molding her into a spy or – her eyebrow arches in distaste – _bedding_ her. She personally feels that Emma is being a tad over-dramatic in her assumptions, with talks of hooks and coat racks and charm. Regina may be seen as the villain of the piece, but that doesn't mean that she acts without purpose and what she does, she does for the good of Storybrooke. Her town. One she has run without incidence for the past 28 years – until now.

She will only allow the capricious disturbance running through this community to grow so much and stretch so far, before she begins taking action to quell such disparate happenings. Emma is an outsider, her behavior is expected, most of the time, but Regina will not have her townspeople falling under the blonde's precarious illusions. She feels she has pretty much had her fill of Emma for today as she feels renewed anger begin to bubble to the surface.

"Have a good day, Sheriff Swan," Regina easily dismisses, as if they have just finished discussing the budget for next quarter.

Emma keeps her stature for a few seconds longer, feeling the blood pulse steadily beneath her skin in mild victory. She supposes she can only take Regina's demeanor and lack of a rebuttal as a win (or so she tells herself). Then she turns on her booted heel and walks to the doors of Regina's office in a languid stride. She offers one last look at Regina over her shoulder as she turns the handle, not surprised to see the brunette still sitting on the edge of her desk, arms crossed, as she watches Emma's exit – her expression giving nothing away. "That lipstick isn't fooling anyone, by the way," she says nonchalantly.

Emma has just enough time to see Regina instinctively pull her bruised lip into her mouth before she opens the door and ventures forth, shutting the door promptly behind her as a feeling of elation swoops low in her stomach.

As she continues across the hard tile of the floor, a reproachful look from the secretary catches her eye.

"See ya later, Helen," Emma offers with a grin, never breaking stride as she passes the front desk.

The woman blinks at her and that's the last Emma sees of her for the day as she makes her way to her car.

XXXXX

"Finally," meets Emma's ears as she returns to the station. "Thought you might've died out there."

"No such luck," Emma replies, throwing her keys on Ruby's desk as she allows herself another stretch of her arms.

"Hey! Easy there," Ruby says, plucking Emma's keys out of the middle of her work space and setting them off to the side. "I just got this the way I wanted it. What do you think?"

Emma looks down, noting how obnoxiously organized everything is atop the desk in front of her. She scowls as she glances back at her own desk, able to see the mess it's become from where she's standing.

"Lookin' pretty good," she comments, pushing her own disorderliness aside as she gives Ruby's desk an exaggerated once-over. She then moves to sit back in the chair she set up across from the deputy, figuring she can kill some more time chatting before getting started on anything that may be of use. She hears Regina's words in the back of her mind about 'acting like the Sheriff' and 'setting an example', and settles deeper into her chair, a small act of defiance she has no qualms about displaying.

"Thanks, I-" Ruby abruptly stops, peering at Emma in sudden contemplation.

It takes Emma a few seconds to realize that Ruby is staring at her, rather intently. "What?" Emma asks, kicking her feet up on the desk as she bites at a hangnail. Is Ruby going to lecture her too? she wonders.

Ruby says nothing, tilting her head to the side instead as she chews her bottom lip.

"Oh! I forgot the ice cream," Emma says with a snap of her fingers. "Damn. I'll get us some later, sorry."

"I take it you were distracted?" Ruby finally speaks, making eye contact with Emma again.

"I... um, what?" Emma asks, taking a minute to absorb Ruby's words and the knowing tone that accompanied them.

"Your shirt, Emma," Ruby inclines her head in the direction of Emma's chest. "The buttons are mismatched."

Emma immediately looks down, her gaze tracking the buttons and noticing how lop-sided her shirt so obviously is, and her feet slip off the desk with a heavy thud. "Oh," is her response. She wants to wrap her jacket around her to hurriedly cover up the evidence, but realizes, with a regretful stab, that she left it on one of the chairs in the hallway back at City Hall. She can't help but already begin to mourn its loss. If Regina doesn't burn it on sight, that old fart of a secretary surely will.

It's her turn to chew her lip as she struggles for an explanation. "I... don't really..." she mumbles, gesturing at herself with a complete loss of what to say.

Ruby suddenly breaks out into poorly-controlled laughter, barely even trying to stifle it as she slaps the desk. "I knew you were getting lucky! God, I could practically smell it on you the moment I first walked in this morning."

A hot flush rises to Emma's cheeks. She's momentarily surprised that Ruby isn't freaking out over the fact that Emma's been "getting lucky" with the Mayor of Storybrooke. She expected her to be horrified, not amused. As Ruby continues to chortle, she curses herself and her complete inability to function today, swearing to throw out any and all shirts with buttons or fastenings. Not that she'll have time to do any of that if Regina catches wind that Ruby knows about their arrangements; Emma's head will be piked on Regina's front gate.

Ruby calms down enough to catch her breath. "So? Who is it? Who've you been sneaking off to go see?" Ruby asks, her voice picking up that conspiring tone that Emma was so used to hearing back in the diner. "You could have just told me, you know. You didn't have to use an errand as an excuse to go see your honey."

Emma blinks rapidly, relief welling up inside of her at Ruby assuming that Regina was just a patsy. Maybe she won't lose her head after all.

"Well... um... I hope you don't mind, Ruby, but I'd really rather not..." she flounders, random names flying into her brain to spit out should Ruby press her. She could always name Dr. Whale, he's always giving it up. Ruby might think less of her for it, but it was better than the other option of actually telling the truth.

"Oh!" Ruby catches herself, immediately leaning back and drawing her face into a taut, serious expression. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I just... that was inappropriate of me, I'm sorry, Sheriff," she rushes out. Ruby instantly wants to berate herself. Had she not just given herself a pep talk this morning about this place _not_ being the diner?

Emma cringes at how quickly she's able to bring out Ruby's deputy persona, and smiles to set her at ease. "Ruby, it's fine. I know I'm technically your boss now, but we can still talk, you know? Just... not about that, preferably."

"Right, I understand," Ruby says with a stiff nod of her head.

An uneasy silence spreads over them then.

Emma scratches at the back of her neck, watching as Ruby fiddles around with various knick-knacks laid out across her desk.

"So... um, if the phone rings just – ah – answer it, and defer it to me if it's something significant," Emma tries, not knowing what else to say on a personal level.

"And, uh, I'll talk you through the paperwork tomorrow. Right now, you should probably become acquainted with the procedures and everything," she adds.

"Right," Ruby repeats.

Emma gets up and goes over to a filing cabinet, pulling from it a thick binder. She heaves it onto Ruby's desk and watches as the new deputy spares no hesitance in flipping it open and dipping her head low to take in the tiny print.

Emma is thrown back to the memory of her first time with the binder, sitting exactly where Ruby is. Except she had only managed to lift the front cover and heavily skim the first page before closing it and throwing it off to the side. Graham had simply given her a disapproving look, seeming to know better than to order her to do anything more.

She smiles sadly in remembrance of the man before jerking herself back into the present.

"I'll be in the office if you need me," Emma says, needing to distract herself.

"Alright," Ruby replies quietly, having already delved into the work in front of her.

Emma takes her cue and heads to her office, shutting the door behind her. She settles herself into the creaky leather of the chair and looks down at the stack of folders in front of her with a deep sigh.

She decides to flip on the television while she works, needing some background noise to take her mind off other things. The TV is old and hardly ever has good picture, but the audio is clear enough, so she lets it run while she works.

A good half-hour passes by and soon the local news comes on. Since Storybrooke is such a small town, there's not much to report besides the most minor of accidents and the weather, so the broadcast usually ends fairly soon before returning to some old-ass soap opera that Emma's never heard of.

Emma is just filling out another incident report – involving Leroy, surprise, surprise – when she hears the weatherman announcing the forecast for the rest of the week.

"...Tuesday will be mostly cloudy, the temperature reaching no more than the usual high for this time of year, but Wednesday could prove to be a bit of a troublemaker for the locals. A warm front closing in on the east coast will cause a number of storm systems to traverse across the state – Storybrooke developing into a strong target – so expect possible heavy showers and high winds to hit sometime Wednesday evening, going into late Thursday morning. We'll be sure to keep you updated, but by Thursday afternoon..."

Emma groans, her stomach beginning to twist into nervous coils, tightening by the second.

Sundays and Wednesdays are when she and Regina... get together. Last Wednesday it had been storming pretty bad. So bad that Regina had asked her to stay the night instead of having her leave and driving in the treacherous weather.

That night has caused her so much aggravation, embarrassment, and resentment that Emma doesn't think she can handle having to deal with the circumstances again. She begins to tap her pen rapidly against the desk, scenarios flying through her head at what could happen should it storm again Wednesday night.

Would Regina ask her to stay again? Would she even bother asking after Emma's reaction last time? Should Emma just leave as soon as she and Regina are done, not giving Regina time to voice anything? Should she even go at all?

Emma chews on her nails, glancing down at the phone resting idly on the corner of her desk. She could easily cancel. Call the Mayor up and come up with some excuse to ditch their exchange. Would Regina buy it? Or would she see right through Emma's ploy and laugh?

She scratches at her forehead before drawing her hand down her face tiredly.

No. Emma can't let this get to her. Whatever happens... happens.

They fuck, and she either goes... or she stays. That's all there is to it.

Either way it won't mean anything.

It won't be of any significance.

None at all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Not too happy with this chapter, but I hope it didn't turn out too horribly. I know next to nothing about how involved the curse is when it comes to television, radio, etc, or about the process of becoming a Deputy, so you'll have to excuse my ignorance on those parts in particular. Once again, should FFnet delete this story, it will updated on my LJ (captainly).

Please let me know what you thought of the chapter, and thank you for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

Emma stands outside the back of the station, resting against the rough brick as she watches the rain pouring down in sheets in front of her. The barely-there awning is the only thing keeping her safe from getting completely wet and sullied, the toes of her boots getting splattered as she wistfully blows a jet of smoke from the pursed 'O' of her mouth into the humid air.

She rarely indulges in the habit, but her nerves feel shot. She's been spending the past two days trying to keep a solid eye on Ruby and her progress, training her while making sure Regina and her puppet strings continue to stay clear of her, throwing off Ruby's curious gazes whenever Emma asks if Regina has been in contact with her, and downing Pepto Bismol to keep stomach acid from crawling up her insides at the gnawing possibility that Ruby will somehow find out who Emma has been seeing.

Emma wouldn't go so far as to say that she's _ashamed_ of sleeping with the Mayor, just... unwilling to accept the possible shit-storm that would accompany everyone knowing. Talk would surely reach Henry's ears and she just can't... won't bear the thought of his reaction, of how he would more than likely label her a traitor and cut himself off from her. She's not even sure that Henry would understand what exactly she was doing with his mom, but he would see it as an act of betrayal that she was seeing Regina in any other capacity that wasn't based upon the prejudices she supposedly garnered as the White Knight.

So, yes, Emma now has to worry about Ruby possibly finding out about her – as Regina would call them – 'proclivities'. She just needs to remember to be more careful, to be wary of any details that she may choose to divulge in Ruby's presence. So far, Ruby hasn't asked any invasive questions or inquired about her "honey"'s identity over the past couple of days, but that doesn't mean that the new deputy isn't keeping an open ear out for any slip of the tongue.

If Henry's reaction is her number one biggest fear of everyone finding out, then Regina's would definitely come in at number two. She consciously chooses to not give the idea much thought.

A few black rectangular objects suddenly dance into her vision. It's hard to see through the rain, but she guesses they must be roofing shingles, the wind having blown them off their structures. She watches them turn and tumble along the road before they're caught in the thin currents of the water running along the pavement and are swept away amidst the pounding raindrops beating down upon them.

She sighs, wondering just how severe the winds and rain are supposed to get. It's going on 3pm and the storm has already prompted numerous calls from concerned citizens, who are clearly not used to bad weather. She watches the flashes of lightning webbing across the sky and is consequently reminded of the evening that lays ahead of her. This will be the second time that she has been to Regina's house while a storm this severe has hit. She can only hope that tonight will not end up with her being as humiliated as she was the last time.

The longer Emma thinks about it, the more she doesn't want to go to Regina's tonight. She doesn't want to have to witness her smug look, her knowing stare, all of her subtle expressions and concealed words that are meant to further taunt Emma. She doesn't want to be there to bear the brunt of more ridicule for her overreaction when Regina had asked her to stay the night the first time, when Emma had been under the false impression that Regina had been wanting to take their relationship more seriously, and how she, Emma, had felt a small part of her welcome the idea, only to have the entire thing laughed off.

Maybe she'll get lucky and Regina won't allude to it at all. She feels the sharp chuckle leave her lips, and knows that that possibility is miniscule at best. Regina has never been able to resist the temptation to cause Emma discomfort or embarrassment, why would she stop now?

But Emma knows that she has to go, she has to treat this night just like any other. Regina would think her chicken shit or – she scowls darkly – too fragile, if she doesn't show up. If Regina chooses to mock her the entire time she's there, then so be it.

She takes another drag of the cigarette hanging loosely between her fingers as another realization drifts through the lazy haze of her mind: Her pride isn't the only reason that she wants to see Regina tonight.

It's only been three days since she's had her hands on the woman, but she finds herself itching to grab hold once again. To feel her... fuck her...

Her lips tingle and she's brought back to the moment Sunday night when they had kissed for the first time without an awkward, hesitant atmosphere. It had been wet, greedy, brutal. She definitely wants to do some more of that. She licks her lips in remembrance before her brain catches up with her and she's made aware that Regina probably won't have Emma's mouth anywhere near hers, not after the biting incident.

Come to think of it, Regina more than likely won't let Emma's mouth anywhere on her body – the neck incident blaring to the surface this time. She flicks the end of the cigarette butt to knock the built-up layer of ashes off as she leans more heavily against the brick behind her. Maybe if she promises to keep her anger in check (or maybe persuade Regina into not pissing her off) then she can have free reign again. She doesn't see much success in it, but it's worth a try.

She narrows her eyes at the thought of having to ask Regina's permission for anything, and becomes more disgruntled at the idea of it. Regina would just love that, wouldn't she? She'd probably-

"Hey!"

Emma jumps at the voice and turns to see Ruby leaning in the doorway, holding the back door ajar as she pokes just her head and shoulders out to avoid the flecks of water ricocheting off the cement.

"Sorry, was just checking up on you. You've been out here awhile," the brunette says in a much quieter tone, a look of concern frowning her features.

Emma turns her gaze back to the thick, blackened clouds, taking a deep drag before responding with, "Yeah... I'll be inside in a few, Ruby." She knows Ruby can be extremely perceptive at times, so she gives her a brief smile in the hopes of allaying any worries.

"Oh, Emma," Ruby whines, pointing to the cigarette. "Ew."

"I know, I know. Cancer, harmful to the environment, shortened lifespan, whatever," Emma replies with a roll of her eyes. "Just save the speech, please. I'm not in the mood to get berated." She's really not up for being judged right now, on top of everything else, for doing something that's no one's business but her own.

Ruby shrinks back. "I-I wasn't going to _berate_ you for it, Emma."

Emma sees the hurt look on Ruby's face and sighs. "Sorry, Ruby. Just been having a crap day."

"That much is obvious."

Emma glances at the new deputy and sees the smile playing around the corners of her lips, and can't help but return it.

Another flash of lightning scores across the ever-darkening sky then, drawing the attention of both women.

"Supposed to get pretty bad tonight, yeah?" Ruby questions, stepping out of the doorway to get a better view.

"That's what they're saying," Emma says, thinking back to the weather reports that had been breaking in intermittently during the day on the old television in her office. A rumble of thunder seems to grumble its assent as it echoes throughout Storybrooke. Emma doesn't usually get spooked by storms, but she can't help the sense of foreboding that trickles down her spine as another flash of lightning makes itself visible through the thick downpour of rain.

"If this wind keeps up, we're gonna have a hell of a clean-up tomorrow," Emma adds loudly over another clap of thunder, looking around at the scattered debris of shingles and various amounts of trash strewn here and there. It's fairly minimal, but it can quickly escalate to broken branches in the road and downed powerlines. It's a good thing Mary-Margaret had that candle fundraiser, Emma thinks idly.

"And I'm guessing we're going to be up bright and early to assess the damage? Take reports?" Ruby asks, sounding more excited than put-out. Emma supposes she's eager to be out and about, show her stuff. Hell, even Emma's looking forward to not having to spend all day at her desk, even if the circumstances aren't all that great.

"And guess who gets to file all those reports?" Emma drawls, putting her cigarette out on the brick of the building before flicking it into a nearby trash bin.

"_All_ of them?" Ruby questions, the glimmer in her eyes fading somewhat.

"Welcome aboard, Deputy," Emma says with a grin, bumping her shoulder against Ruby's before heading inside.

"Oh, come on... you can't be serious... Emma!" Ruby calls after her, following the blonde's footsteps into the station and shutting the door behind her.

xxxxx

"... and just remember to be careful out there, folks!" The weatherman's broadcast ends, and Emma flicks the TV off.

"Hey, Ruby?" Emma calls, walking out of her office.

"Yeah?" Ruby turns in her chair to face the blonde.

"Why don't you go ahead and cut out early. I don't want you getting caught in an even bigger mess later."

"But, Emma, I'm-"

"I've already fielded two calls from Granny, Ruby," Emma interrupts. "Get home. And, please, be careful."

Ruby looks a little agitated at the mention of her grandmother, but turns back around to start getting her things together. "Alright, alright. But call me if I'm needed, okay?"

"Will do," Emma lies, Granny's threat of no one finding Emma's body should anything happen to Ruby still fresh in her mind.

Ruby slings her purse over her shoulder and gives Emma a serious look. "You be careful too."

"I will, now go before Granny gets the idea to come up here and physically drag you out," Emma teases.

Ruby rolls her eyes, but smiles. "Very funny. You can leave too, you know. People know how to get hold of you if anything serious comes up."

"I know, I'll be getting out of here shortly. No worries," Emma replies, just as the phone rings for perhaps the 10th time in the past hour.

Ruby reaches for it, but Emma snatches the phone from the receiver on the deputy's desk, sending a stern look in the brunette's direction. "Sheriff's Station," she answers, shooing Ruby away with her hand.

Ruby puts her hands up in surrender as she turns around and makes her way out of the building, giving Emma a stern look of her own as she points outside in warning. Emma nods her head in acknowledgment as she begins speaking with an agitated citizen on the other end of the line.

Luckily, after that conversation ends, Emma isn't met with anymore phone calls for the next couple of hours, and decides to make her leave. She figures that if she makes it home alive, then she can allow herself to nurse a couple of drinks before heading over to Regina's. It couldn't hurt to numb herself just a little in preparation.

xxxxx

It's now going on 9pm and Emma is feeling pretty... sloshed.

After spending more time than she cared for trying to maneuver her way home in the rain, she had taken a long shower, and begrudgingly put some more work clothes on instead of something more comfortable. As unlikely as it was, an emergency call could come at any time, so she had to be at least a little prepared. She had then planted herself at the small wooden table in the kitchen with the notion of having just one drink.

Mary-Margaret had given her a disapproving look when Emma had retrieved the whiskey from the top cabinet, but had said nothing about the matter as she joined the sheriff to indulge in some small talk. After Emma had decided that a second... and then maybe a third drink couldn't hurt, her roommate had decided to go to the living room and watch some TV instead, not sure she could hold her tongue in regards to Emma's behavior. It wasn't as if Emma was very forthcoming about her day anyway, which had only made Mary-Margaret worry more. She just had to hope that Emma wouldn't be called in for anything tonight at the rate she was going.

Emma had barely taken notice of Mary-Margaret's leave, her mind being preoccupied with other thoughts, and it was as if she were on autopilot as she poured herself another drink, then another.

Now it's just going on 9 o'clock and she's sitting with her head slumped into her hand as she tries to process what lays ahead for the rest of the evening. Whereas she had hoped the alcohol would help to smother any lingering feelings of doubt and anxiety about going over to Regina's, it seems to have opened a sort of floodgate within her mind instead. Possible scenarios keep flying in and out, and now she's unsure of whether she will be going at all.

What if Regina asks her to stay again due to the bastard weather? She knows Regina would make a mockery of asking her, but still, what would Emma do? Leave as a non-verbal form of 'Fuck off'? Or should she stay as a way of saying 'This shit doesn't bother me anymore, you self-righteous bitch'?

She just needs to stop making a bigger deal out of this than what it is. There is a storm raging outside and she's pretty sure that she qualifies as drunk at the moment, so the only logical thing to do is to call Regina and... cancel. Who cares what Regina will say, or what she'll think? Emma swallows thickly over the hint of acid that wants to climb up her throat. Surely, she thinks, surely Regina has taken notice of the weather outside and would realize that maybe Emma doesn't want to risk her life for a booty call. That's a valid point, damn it.

Emma smacks her forehead against the table in irritation and lets herself rest against it. Despite her misgivings, she hates the idea of having to wait until Sunday to see Regina naked again.

She tries to quell the wave of self-loathing that accompanies her admission, because, goddamn it, she's only human. She's not fucking Regina for her personality, that's for damn sure. She closes her eyes and takes a deep, calming breath as her mind begins to drift to the long, toned legs of the brunette... how great those strong, muscled thighs feel wrapped around her head... how strongly she feels the stomach muscles contract when she slides her hands up the brunette's abdomen... how Regina's nipples seem to instantly harden before Emma even has a chance to paw at them... how she can visibly see the pulse beating rapidly under the smooth skin of her neck... her full, wanting lips...

A loud clap of thunder causes Emma to jerk away from the wood and she automatically looks around, as if her thoughts could be heard should anyone be too near.

Seeing Mary-Margaret with her back to her on the couch, she takes a deep breath, then tries to remember what she was thinking about.

Oh yeah, she remembers, a tipsy smile forming on her lips. She haphazardly pours some more whiskey into her glass as she wills thoughts of naked-Regina to stay put.

Another thought flickers to life in her mind. So what if the circumstances aren't exactly ideal... is she really going to give up a night of fucking Regina because of her own issues? Surely she couldn't possibly do more damage tonight than she had last Wednesday night.

Looking back on that night further, she realizes just how exposed she had made herself, how open she had been. The fact that she had _actually considered _the idea of becoming more serious with Regina still rattles her. That she had felt _disappointment_ churn deep in her gut when she discovered that that wasn't Regina's intention at all makes her nauseous somewhat. Christ, she had been easy pickings that night.

She just needs to get a hold of herself and shut all of those thoughts out.

"Don't you think you've maybe... had enough?" Mary-Margaret questions, walking over to Emma who is continuing to lounge at the kitchen table.

Emma blinks blearily at her, already reaching for the bottle of whiskey again. "I've only splashed a little into my drink, Mary-Margaret," she explains patronizingly, dumping some more into her glass.

"'A little' may be a bit of an understatement," Mary-Margaret says quietly, eyeing the bottle as if she's mentally measuring how much used to be in it before Emma had come home.

"Save it... I'm an adult... I can drink when I want to," Emma replies, taking a heavy gulp of the liquid before leaning back in the chair with a contented groan. Who is Mary-Margaret to be judging her? Jesus, she'd take Regina's smug look over the concerned doe-eyes her roommate is giving her any day.

Mary-Margaret pulls a chair out and lowers herself into it before putting her arms on the table and leaning forward in concern. "I just don't think tonight is the best night to be... indulging in it, Emma," she says in a soothing tone, not entirely sure of which way Emma's mood will go at this point.

"Why? Because it's raining a little more than usual? God, with all the calls I got this afternoon, you'd think it was the fucking apocalypse or something," Emma says with a rough laugh, taking another drink.

"Some people just seek assurance-"

"Yeah, yeah. They wanna make sure my head's not up my ass," Emma barks. "Asking me if I was _aware_ of the storm, if I was _up to date _with the weather reports, if I knew how to do my goddamn job..." Emma feels a fresh wave of anger roll through her as she remembers some of the more... unfriendlier phone calls. These people elected her, damn it. The least they could do is trust her to handle herself.

Mary-Margaret chews on the inside of her cheek, not really knowing what to say. She knows something is wrong, Emma doesn't normally lash out... at least not against those who don't deserve it.

"And some of the calls were just... just completely pointless. You should have heard 'em. I mean, so a little thunder scares some guy's horses and they jump the fence. What the hell am I supposed to do about that? I don't like horses! I have a badge, so I'm automatically a fucking horse whisperer? If I didn't die on the drive over there, I would have more than likely been trampled to death."

Scrunching her brow, Mary-Margaret tries to judge just how tipsy Emma is at this point.

"I'm the fucking Sheriff. I oversee the... the safety of... this town," Emma continues, seeming to lose focus as her eyes begin to wander aimlessly around the kitchen. "That doesn't neces... necessesss..."

"Necessarily?" Mary-Margaret adds helpfully with a lift of her eyebrows.

"Yes! That doesn't _necessarily_ mean that I'm part of animal control, or that I have to be made aware of every goddamn shingle that blows loose, or every flash of lightning that goes off." She gestures wildly with her hand, her drink slopping over the sides of the glass.

"Newsflash! The weather is not that great today! People should just... get over it. It's just a little fucking wind, just a little rain. Nothing to get all... all bent out of shape over," she says, letting her arm fall into the small puddle that had formed on the table.

Mary-Margaret hands her a napkin but is ignored as Emma rests her chin in her hand, not even noticing her wet sleeve. The brunette makes due with wiping up the spare droplets along the table, needing something to do as Emma huffs.

"One lady was even mad because I didn't know more than the fucking weatherman," the blonde grumbles.

Repressing the urge to chastise Emma for her excessive foul language, Mary-Margaret grasps Emma's free hand instead.

"It sounds like you've had a rough day, so why don't you go ahead and call it a night?" She tries to persuade. "I'll screen your calls and if there actually is an emergency, I'll wake you." She hopes Emma's a little too tipsy to spot her lie. She'd sooner call Ruby to deal with something right now than the woman slumped grumpily in front of her.

She knows the phone calls aren't what has Emma in this mood, but she also knows festering her for answers in this state isn't going to help matters. She can only hope that sleeping it off will help.

"Nah, I have to be over at-" Emma abruptly stops, seeming to catch herself at the last second as a sour expression forms on her face.

Mary-Margaret's brow lifts in question. "Over where?" She asks curiously. Emma couldn't possibly be thinking about going out, not on a night like this, and certainly not this intoxicated. She feels Emma's hand being snatched out of her grasp as the blonde clumsily scoots her chair back from the table.

"You know what? I am gonna go to bed," Emma says, not making eye contact with her room mate as she grabs the bottle of whiskey. "I'll just..." Mary-Margaret gets up and stretches her hand out, wanting to comfort Emma in some way, but Emma shrinks back. "Goodnight, Mary-Margaret." And with that Emma makes her way upstairs, not even glancing back at the brunette. Through the alcohol-induced haze of her mind, Emma knows that she was more or less rude, but finds that she doesn't care at the moment.

She shuts the door, places the bottle haphazardly on the floor, and sits on the edge of her bed, head in her hands. She knew better than to drink, she knew better. Now she's all fucked up and random emotions keep filling her head; it's almost as if she can feel them rolling over one another, again and again, and it's enough to make her queasy.

The most prominent one she feels right now is anger. She's angry at the storm for existing, she's angry with Regina for causing her to be in this state, and she's angry with herself for, well, everything. Hell, she's even angry with Mary-Margaret for whatever reason.

Now she feels guilt sliding itself into her brain, followed quickly by annoyance, then resentment. She can't pinpoint any specific emotion to any specific thing, and she quickly realizes how exhausted she is. She finally lifts her head up to fall back completely on her bed, letting everything she's feeling continue to stew in a swirling vat of acid inside of her stomach. The gnawing feeling returns and she feels a nervous coil tightening in her gut, and she cannot disregard it like she normally would have been able to, which only serves to frustrate her.

Wasn't alcohol supposed to suppress emotions? Help to block out troublesome thoughts? It almost feels as if all the burning liquid did was manage to hulk everything out within her, make everything more glaringly prominent and active, without her control.

Usually when she drinks, she does it to seek out that space, that small divide in her consciousness that lets her feel at peace. But no matter how much she drank tonight, that blissful feeling had managed to elude her.

She thought she had touched upon it once or twice when she had been in the kitchen, but then a particularly fierce rumble of thunder would serve to remind her of her predicament, and just like that, she would fall from that divide, would feel her anxiety begin to consume her, feel it writhing up to twist and squeeze against her organs, before feeling it pass seconds later, as if it had never happened. Then she would go back to drinking and grousing about whether or not to go to Regina's.

And now she's here, sprawled out on her bed, trying to keep the turmoil within her tamed long enough so as to not let it physically manifest into her vomiting all over her sheets.

Emma growls. Regina's not important enough, certainly not significant enough to ever cause her this much grief. It's fucking ridiculous that she feels as messed up as she does. She had been perfectly fine with going over to the Mayor's house when she was sober. Fucking whiskey. Never again, she thinks. She may have to go back to Tequila after this.

She absentmindedly begins to scratch her nails lightly over her stomach as she closes her eyes, trying to clear her mind. Maybe she should just go to sleep, should just be grateful that the alcohol in her system assures her the promise of drifting off with ease, even with the constant churnings in her head and stomach.

Her fingertips glide more heavily against her skin, her shirt rucking up as she trails them up over her ribs. Goosebumps form as the cool air of the room assaults her overheated skin and she stretches her legs out before letting them drop back down to dangle over the edge of the bed once again.

She wants to sleep... she wants to scream... so she just continues running her fingers over her abdomen, letting the action soothe her, letting it lull her back into the peacefulness that she desperately wants to reclaim.

Another thunderclap jolts her from the inside out, her eyes opening and blinking against the blurriness that surrounds her field of vision.

_This fucking storm._

If she were one to believe in a higher power, she'd put the blame on it for somehow doing this to her on purpose.

Her brain feels sluggish as she stares at the ceiling, her heartbeat trying to slow down. The lightning flashes in her peripheral vision and she's taken back to Regina's bedroom on that night in her mind's eye before she's able to stop herself...

… the dark form of Regina's silhouette against the pillows... how the flashes from the lightning mixed with the moonlight to coat her in a blue hue that made it seem as if she were glowing... how she had dropped her sheet to entice Emma to come back to bed after she had been caught trying to leave...

A small smile forms on Emma's lips at that memory, letting her eyes slip closed once again.

Regina always looks good, but that night Emma remembers her being exceptionally... beautiful. The brunette still had the vestiges of sleep, her hair was in disarray, and she just looked so utterly _human_.

Emma's smile fades and her brow furrows as she remembers how tainted that image of Regina had quickly become, how odd it seemed for such a breathtaking creature to spew such vile words from her mouth. How she had made Emma want to crawl away in shame, want to hide in someplace faraway.

She bites her lip as she recalls what she had done instead… how she had refused the call to run away, refused to let herself feel pathetic. She had taken charge of her emotions then, and responded in the only way she knew how.

She fucked Regina senseless.

Emma vaguely notes the feeling of smug satisfaction flaring up within her at the thought. How it had been Regina saying _Emma's_ name for once, how she had commanded complete control over the body beneath hers.

Emma feels a small stirring in the crotch of her jeans and it takes her a few seconds to realize that she has her own hand stuffed down the front of her pants. She feels it says a lot about her character that she isn't more surprised.

She removes her hand with a sigh and tries to pull what she can of her thoughts together.

Deep – very deep – down, she knows that she had made her decision the second she had first heard about the storm two days ago, because she knows what she wants; it's what she always wants.

xxxxx

After what feels like an eternity, Emma finally makes it to the gate of the Mayor's house. She's a bit early, but most of the lights are off so she knows that Henry's already been put to bed.

She's a wet, shivering mess as she stumbles up the front steps, still feeling hazy and only mostly aware of her surroundings. She figured her mind would clear somewhat on the walk over, what with the strikingly cold water pouring down on her, but it had let up to a light drizzle almost as soon as she had hit pavement. She supposes taking a gallant swig from her bottle every other step counter-acted what would have been the otherwise sobering effects of the rain anyway. She resists the urge to pat herself on the back for even making it as far as she did.

She may have been out of it, but she knew better than to attempt to drive to Regina's house. In the back of her mind, she's registering how possibly crazy it seems to walk all this way in this kind of weather, all to see a woman she can barely tolerate, but she shoves that thought off to the side as she makes her way to the door. Taking a breath, she remembers the mantra that kept running through her head on the way over: Just treat this night like any other.

She has the wayward thought to wipe her feet on the doormat, but that's the only care she shows as she reaches for the door handle.

It jiggles, but doesn't turn all the way.

Locked.

_Are you fucking kidding me?_

Emma stands there, feeling slightly dumbstruck. Regina always, _always_ leaves the door unlocked for her. She waits a few seconds longer, then tries the door again, thinking that maybe her mind was just tricking her.

Again, it barely moves. Shit. She could knock, but then she'd run the very real risk of waking Henry, and she's been around Regina enough to know that she would flay her alive no matter how quietly she knocked, just for taking that risk.

She sighs, backing away from the door, kicking absently at the welcome mat. Then another thought hits her. _Phone!_ She searches her jacket and jeans pockets, but comes up empty. _Damn it._

She feels another bout of anger rise up at Mary-Margaret, who is in possession of her cell right now. Why did that woman have to care so damn much?

She stomps down the steps, aiming her anger at Regina now as her feet begin splashing through puddles. _Why didn't she leave the fucking door unlocked? Goddamn it. Who does she think she is? What right does she have to lock her door!_

Emma's almost to the gate when she suddenly halts, then whips around. She peers up at the windows and gets another idea. She's more than positive, even in her current state, that Regina will probably be just as mad, but she can't not try.

She awkwardly jogs across the muddied lawn, slipping twice, then meanders around the front of the house until she's able to squint through the dark enough to pinpoint the window that would belong to Regina's bedroom.

With a whispered 'A-ha!', she then looks around on the ground for a projectile, about to go full John Hughes on this bitch.

She finds a pinecone (she's not crazy enough to throw a goddamn rock at a glass window, after all), and pauses to adjust her aim before letting it fly. It connects somewhere in the vicinity of the window she was aiming for, so she waits, looking around for some sort of movement.

Nothing.

She sighs and picks up another pinecone, figuring she's going to be here for awhile, then lazily throws it without paying too much attention before taking another swig from the bottle. Henry's on the other side of the house, so she doesn't feel the need to worry too much about waking him. Not as if she's throwing fucking grenades at the house. She barely even pauses to look for any sort of reaction from the window above before grabbing another pinecone, the act of throwing stuff at the Mayoral mansion feeling kind of cathartic.

Suddenly she hears a sliding sound, followed by a thud. She looks up and is met with a form leaning cautiously out of a window, a soft light glowing in the room outlining Regina's familiar shape.

Emma waves awkwardly after dropping her ammo, not sure of what to say now that she's got Regina's attention. Excitement flows through her and she wants to despise herself for it, but isn't in the right frame of mind to bring forth the effort to smother the feelings of want.

"Ms. Swan?" Emma hears Regina call down with hesitance.

"Yeah!" She calls back.

"Shhh!" meets her ears, and she jerks back a little.

"What are you doing here?" Regina asks.

Emma feels confused, running through the days of the week in her head to make sure that she has her days right.

"I... it's Wednesday..." she answers, suddenly feeling self-conscious and not liking it one bit.

"I know that, Ms. Swan," the annoyed voice from the window replies. "I just didn't expect your presence this evening."

Emma blinks, feeling a new wave of irritation crash through her blitzed out brain. So Regina had just _assumed_ that she'd be too... what... _scared_ to come over? Just because of... of... what happened the last time it stormed? She didn't even consider the possibility of Emma being able to deal? That's why she locked her fucking door? That's why Emma is standing out here, getting pissed on? Because Regina thinks she's weak?

"And why not?" She calls angrily. "Do you think –!"

"Keep your voice down!" Regina snaps.

"You keep _your_ voice down!" Emma yells.

A beat passes, then "Ms. Swan, are you drunk?" comes the terse reply.

Emma looks away from the silhouette then, frustration and annoyance knocking around in her head. "So what if I am?" It's none of Regina's business what she does, Emma thinks sourly.

"I think you had better leave, Ms. Swan," Regina says, her tone disproving.

"Why?" Emma asks incredulously. "All 'cause I've had a couple of drinks?"

"Because you are trespassing, now leave before I have you arrested for it," Regina warns.

Emma wants to scoff, wants to tell Regina that she's the Sheriff for crying out loud, but she doubts even that'd prevent her from ending up in handcuffs at the hands of Ruby, and then wouldn't she just be proving Regina's point? How her behavior lately hasn't exactly warranted the title of Sheriff in the first place?

Fuck this, she thinks, she is not going to let Regina twist everything around on her. It's wasn't trespassing all the other fucking times she's been over here.

"Yeah? Well, I'm here, and I'm getting what I came for. Unlock the door," she answers gruffly, her brain clouding over even more in anger. She sees the outline of Regina lean back somewhat.

"No," comes the hard reply.

"Damn it, Regina! It's Wednesday!" Emma calls back mindlessly, the bottle of whiskey swinging in her hand.

"I fail to see the relevance of knowing what day of the week it is, Ms. Swan," Regina replies impatiently.

_This lady can't be serious_. Emma stares dumbfounded back at the shape towering over her.

"In case it's slipped your mind, Regina, we tend to f-"

"I know what we tend to do, Ms. Swan," Regina interrupts, spitting the words out like they're something rancid. "And I said no! So it shouldn't matter what damn day it is!"

Pressure compounds at once into Emma's stomach. Here Regina is, changing up their system... yet again. A spike of hatred shoots up her spine and she has to resist the very real urge to throw her bottle against the side of the house.

"You can't keep doing this!" She shouts. "You can't keep..." Her brain catches up with her mouth for once and she lets herself trail off, managing to pull together enough sense not to expose herself completely.

"God! You know what? Never mind! Just fucking forget that I even bothered to come over here!" She yells bitterly. Whether she's shaking from the cold having long seeped into her clothes or from pure outrage, she doesn't know. She hates this, she hates that she's not in the right state of mind to keep herself in check. But most of all, what she detests herself most for in this moment, is that underneath the pounding anger in her chest, underneath the hatred roiling in her stomach, she still finds herself craving Regina's touch, still wanting Regina's hands on her, still wanting to feel the other woman beneath her, above her.

Goddamn it. Goddamn everything.

She turns and begins trudging away, her footsteps heavy and dragging, as she mentally begins damning herself, damning Regina, damning the whiskey...

Was it really too much to ask that Regina stay with the fucking routine? That she stop fucking it up after last time? Did she fucking plan it? Was this just another ploy cooked up to embarrass her? To serve as another reminder that Emma is an idiot? What the hell is her problem? She wasn't expecting her, Emma's, presence? Bullshit.

Emma tips the bottle back, relishing the burning of her throat. Regina knew, she fucking knew that she would show up. Probably watched her walk right to the fucking door, that bitch. Then she waited and acted all surprised to see her before giving her the boot. It's as if she's trying to purposefully mess with her mind. Either that or she has someone else ov-

Emma stops dead, only a few feet from the gate.

No.

She _wouldn't._

She whips herself around, looking back at the mansion. Surely, _surely_ Ruby isn't in there. No way Regina managed to get her claws in that fast. No way Ruby would lack enough sense to get drawn into Regina's bed...

She drops the bottle to the ground and bolts towards the window again. She has the idle thought that perhaps she's just being paranoid, allowing the alcohol to run her thoughts, but she won't be able to go home tonight without knowing, without making sure that Regina has kept her hands to herself.

She slips in the same spot as before, curses, then looks up, only a little surprised to see Regina's frame still rooted to the spot.

"I'm coming up," Emma says suddenly, eyeing possible footholds as she stumbles closer to the side of the house.

"Excuse me? No, you are not!" She hears in reply.

Emma ignores her and moves to grasp onto the nearest ledge, heaving herself up, one hand, then one leg at a time, her heart pounding as adrenaline roars in her blood. She almost can't believe it, she's scaling the side of a fucking mansion. "...Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your long hair..." she whispers senselessly to herself.

"You are going to kill yourself!"

Emma continues to turn a deaf ear to the gasping voice above as she tries to concentrate on not actually falling to her death. Considering the amount of water on the ground, she's sure she'd more than likely survive the fall, but that doesn't mean she's keen on dropping into a mud pit.

Rain starts to splash more heavily onto her face as she finally heaves herself up onto the small awning, the rough, sloping surface scraping roughly against her body, and she crawls over to the open window, noticing that Regina has disappeared.

"Now you go unlock the door?" She whispers incredulously. Or maybe, she thinks, Regina is trying to shoo Ruby out that way. She hurries to crawl through the window.

"Stop right there!" Comes the barked exclamation.

Emma freezes, the wild thought of Regina pointing a gun at her flying through her mind. She blinks as Regina flicks the main light on, then narrows her eyes as she makes out Regina coming towards her with a bundle in her arms.

"Here," Regina says irritably, carefully laying a towel down on the floor at the foot of the window. "Come in, but stand only on that towel, or so help me..."

Emma glares, pulling herself in and landing clumsily on the towel. She gives the room an immediate sweep, having to double back for her brain to register everything she's seeing.

No Ruby... no scattered articles of clothing... and the bed's made. A breath that she didn't know she had been holding escapes and the clenching in her stomach subsides.

Regina stares at her, seemingly coming to the conclusion that Emma is indeed drunk, and throws another towel at her in annoyance.

Before she can think of anything of substance to say, Emma's eyes immediately take in what Regina is wearing. It's a blue-tinted, silk (of course) robe that's barely reaching her thighs. She blinks a few times, thinking that Regina is a little underdressed for supposedly 'not expecting her presence', but Emma loses her train of thought as she sees just how loosely it's tied.

Her eyes follow the lapels of the robe and no matter how low her gaze travels, she sees only skin between the hanging pieces of fabric...

That is definitely underdressed, Emma thinks absently, her lips parting, before she becomes suspicious again. Is it possible that Ruby, or someone else, already left right before Emma got here?

Regina follows Emma's gaze, then sighs before immediately wrapping her robe tighter around herself, having to resist the urge to double-knot the sash.

The Mayor adopts a somewhat menacing stature as she crosses her arms in front of herself, glaring at Emma's soaking, muddied form. "I don't care what you thought you came for, but the most you are going to be doing tonight is sleeping off whatever you have drowned yourself in," she grounds out, looking utterly repulsed by the figure in front of her.

"You can use the guest room tonight after you've put your clothes in the wash and dried off. I trust you can manage to do that much on your own? And you better not get dirt on _anything._" She's practically snarling at this point. "Really. I expected better of you, Ms. Swan. Drinking and then climbing through my window uninvited, acting like a complete heathen from off the street."

Emma stares back at her, adjusting to the conflicting emotions welling up inside of her again as she automatically begins steeling herself against Regina's words. She doesn't like feeling as if she's being scolded like a puppy for wetting the floor, and recognizes the new emotion creeping up her spine as defiance. Another one to add to the pile, she angrily thinks.

"Don't give me that look, you should be _thanking _me for even letting you stay. Don't you ever even _think_ about coming over to my house while intoxicated again, do I make myself clear?" Regina continues to lecture.

Emma doesn't answer, just stares back at her, a growl rumbling low in her throat as everything she's been feeling for the past hour seems to come to a head. Regina. Fucking Regina. The very woman who has been the cause of every goddamn thing today... wants Emma to thank her.

_Treat this night like any other, _floats into her consciousness, as if lazily reminding her why she's here in the first place.

Regina huffs then steps closer. "I said, do you-"

Emma suddenly darts forward, grabbing Regina's head with her hands and forcing their lips together. Regina immediately tries to pull back, but Emma uses the momentum to push her back against the dresser, a hand leaving Regina's hair to grasp desperately at her back, pulling her closer while pushing her more against the hard wood with her body. She has an overwhelming need to feel, touch, grab, and holds onto Regina's struggling form as she lets her body writhe against the brunette's.

Emma can feel Regina's muffled protests against her lips, the nails digging into her shoulders in an effort to push her away, and in the back of her mind – the part that's still capable of rational thought – she knows this is wrong, that she should stop, but she needs it. She needs some form of escape from it all, from every thought, every feeling, just... everything. She needs something familiar.

A hand comes up to grasp at Emma's throat and a strained sound comes from her mouth as a thumb presses threateningly against her windpipe. She releases Regina's lips, but keeps her body against the Mayor's, keeps her hands wrapped around her torso, and lets her face hover in front of Regina's as their panting breaths battle one another for oxygen.

Regina opens her mouth to yell, to shout, to vehemently demand that Emma leave at once, but she's taken aback by the pure desperation on Emma's face... how strained... how tired... how... _raw_ she looks. The blonde's eyes are unfocused and Regina feels the fingers digging into her back in a rhythmic pulse, the hot, alcohol-soaked breath puffing madly against her lips, and she's at a complete loss for words. For once not able to predict Emma's next move, not even able to fathom her next course of action.

Emma's eyes fall to Regina's lips. "It's... Wednesday..." she croaks. Emma, in her frame of mind, thinks this is the only defense she needs, the only one that truly matters. This – Emma's body on Regina's – is what they do.

Regina isn't sure of what to do. She knows she should shove the girl away, do _something_, but finds herself truly captivated by the display being put on in front of her. She feels water and dirt seeping into her robe and can't withhold a shudder of disgust, becoming more chilled against the heavy, wet clothes suffocating her by the second.

"So I've been told," she says stiffly.

Emma presses her body more tightly against Regina's, her eyes never leaving her lips. Regina feels a sharp pain emanating from her tailbone as the edge of the dresser digs into her back, and she can only take short, shallow breaths in response as she continues to be jammed between it and Emma.

"No more games," Emma breathes, her grip tightening.

Regina flits her eyes between Emma's, noticing for the first time how bright the shade of green has become. She's used to seeing the sharp, dull color in day-to-day activities, and the darker shade of forest whenever Emma's close to climaxing, but this is a new color, a new variant.

Emma's words bounce around in her head, not entirely sure of what the blonde could be referring to. She hasn't been playing any games that she has been aware of, not tonight anyway. She's curious about several things that seem to be going on tonight, and Emma Swan did not just assault her for nothing. She realizes how absurd it is for her to still be pressed up against her own furniture; the fact that she has even allowed herself to be in this position for this long is astounding, but she has an inkling that she'll get more answers if she doesn't take Emma's head off... metaphorically speaking, of course.

"What is it that you're trying to accomplish?" Regina attempts, keeping her voice low, her hand not so much grasping as resting against the skin of Emma's throat now.

Emma bites her lip, uncertainty clouding her features, as if she's barely even sure herself. Regina wants to roll her eyes. _Does the woman even know her own name?_

"I.. I just need-," Emma falters, torn between asking for what she wants and not wanting to appear as if she's begging, or, worse, that she's admitting to anything. Her brain begins whirring on overdrive again – worries, fears, general anxiety re-surfacing and chewing on the edges of her mind. She clenches her eyes shut, willing everything to come to a screeching halt.

"Tell me what you need," Regina breathes, taking even herself by surprise. She sensed Emma floundering, saw the flickering shade of chaos behind her heavy-lidded eyes, and said the first thing that came to her mind. She's not sure anything else could have been said.

Emma seems to pause, her eyes opening to look pointedly into Regina's. And just like that, Emma knows exactly why she had made the decision to come over here, why she's in Regina's bedroom, why she's holding onto the very woman who is causing such commotion within her.

Because while Regina can bring all of these emotions forth... she can also make them go away.

She slides her hands off and away from Regina, taking a step back. Regina's expression is impassive, yet cautious... searching, as she takes a much needed breath and absentmindedly unsticks her robe from her skin.

Emma feels that actions will speak louder than words, so she pauses for another beat before reaching a hand down to undo the buckle of her belt.

She lets her hand fall back to her side, watching Regina intently, the outline of the brunette still fuzzy to her distorted eyesight.

Regina eyes the undone ends of the belt hanging invitingly and licks her lips, not even the least bit surprised this time. She also recognizes the crossroads that she's found herself in at this moment. She can either deny Emma and send her straight to the guest room (or out the front door, she thinks considerably), or she can indulge in what the girl is requesting of her. She gives Emma a considering once-over, taking in the general moroseness of her features, the odd determination of her stance.

Regina feels she is well within her rights to discard the very notion of doing anything for the blonde, especially taking into account her own treatment at the hands of the drunken sheriff.

But she feels the smallest, just the most miniscule trace of a pull – of a want – to give Emma what she needs, to relieve whatever burden that is simmering below the surface.

She swallows over the lurch that suddenly twists in the base of her throat, and immediately scoffs at herself, putting everything down to her own building arousal. Even when Emma is being an obnoxious boar of a woman, she somehow still manages to make herself tempting.

She doesn't bother with formalities, with any form of physical foreplay as she gracefully sinks to her knees and hooks her fingers into Emma's belt loops, pulling the sheriff a step closer. A flash of lightning catches the shiny metal of the badge clipped to the blonde's hip, serving to instill Emma with a small sense of guilt, while Regina has to repress a smirk. She may be annoyed right now, but that doesn't stop the edge of power she feels, even when down on her knees.

Emma won't look down again, can't, so she stares straight ahead as Regina undoes the button, then the zipper, of her jeans. It takes her a second to realize that she's staring into her reflection, just now noticing the ornate mirror attached to the dresser top. She doesn't feel comfortable looking at herself either, at least not under this circumstance, and she sighs heavily, looking up at the ceiling instead.

Regina begins tugging on the wet denim, slowly but surely lowering it. When she finally gets it over the swell of Emma's ass, she gives it a few tugs more to get the jeans just above her knees.

Emma shivers as the cold, clammy skin of her legs becomes free of the wet material, immediately feeling Regina's hot breath so close to where she needs it as she feels her underwear being lowered to meet her jeans.

She begins chewing on her lip again, the sensation of Regina's hair barely brushing against her thighs adding to the pressure building within her. She feels hands slide to the backs of her thighs, then farther up to squeeze her ass.

Seconds pass, Emma tenses, growing impatient and increasingly paranoid.

Then she feels it, the firm swipe of a tongue, then another. Emma puts a hand on Regina's head automatically to steady herself, letting her fingers thread through the dark hair as she has the random thought of how soft Regina's hair is tonight.

She shifts her feet farther apart, straining against the denim bound tightly around her legs, as Regina runs her tongue up and down the length of Emma's center. Breathy moans lazily make their way from Emma's mouth, but she doesn't want this, not the slow, languid movements that Regina is choosing to use. She needs more, she needs to feel enough to push everything else from her mind, to feel like the only thing in the world that matters is the feeling between her legs.

She runs her fingers through Regina's hair again, this time grabbing more than enough to control the brunette's movements, and pulls her deeper. Regina takes it in stride and immediately syncs with Emma's hips as they begin a steady, hard rhythm against her face.

A whimper is heard as Regina maneuvers her tongue into Emma's entrance, and Emma leans forward to grasp the edge of the dresser as she grinds against Regina more heavily, the sounds of her panting breaths filling the room.

While she feels some of her latent anger beginning to ebb, her frustration continues to mount. Her eyes are shut tight and she tries to concentrate on the hot, wet mouth working between her legs, but it's still not enough to block everything out.

A grunt is heard as Emma roughly yanks Regina back by the hair, then she awkwardly toes a boot off before pulling a leg free of her jeans, throwing her sodden jacket off while she's at it into a distant corner. She doesn't bother looking down as she once again tangles her fingers in Regina's mussed hair and pulls her to her throbbing center again, now able to spread herself more as rests more heavily on face of the person who has led her to this moment.

Regina complies, shifting on her knees for better access. Regina knows that were it anyone else hitching her around by the hair, she would have castrated them with her teeth, but she feels she has to make yet another exception for the woman above her. As she moves to suck on Emma's clit, she thinks back to the blonde's earlier words about games, feeling something nagging at her in the back of her mind. She supposes that the only reasoning behind them is that Emma has, once again, jumped to conclusions.

It's true that Regina knew exactly what day of the week it was, and knew exactly what transpired on said day, but she had honestly, _honestly_ not been expecting Emma to show up, not in this kind of weather. Regina isn't the girl's parole officer, she doesn't have to report to Regina's house on the designated days or else face punishment. Regina certainly doesn't want the visits to be an _obligation_. Not to say that she wouldn't appreciate a phone call out of courtesy if Emma were to cancel, but she had assumed it was painfully obvious that there would be no meet-up tonight; Regina barely made it home herself unscathed. Rain beats more heavily against the mansion, as if supporting Regina's reasoning.

So, heaven forbid, that Regina make other plans for herself in place of the blonde's expected absence. She had just finished drawing herself a bath when she had been interrupted by something smacking against the side of the house, forcing her to throw on a robe and see to the disturbance. She feels a fresh wave of indignation at the pure audacity of the sheriff and she sucks a little harder on the bundle of nerves in delayed retaliation, feeling the jerk in response as well as the groan that vibrates within the sheriff. Juices begin to run down her chin, and she can feel her own arousal begin to build up to a steady thrum, but she knows the blonde won't be of any help to take care of it, so she makes a mental note to keep it in control until she's drawn another bath for herself later on, and continues to ponder about the woman above her.

She had been only momentarily surprised at seeing the blonde on her front lawn, but was more shocked to learn of her inebriation. It still irks Regina somewhat that Emma had felt the need to drink before coming over to see her; she had never shown up intoxicated before, after all. This fact only served to make Regina more curious. She figures the sheriff must have gotten carried away with the drinks at the diner, probably too busy celebrating another day that Ruby hadn't managed to burn the station to the ground.

Yet another flash of lightning catches Regina's attention, followed by a low rumble of thunder, and then-

_Oh._

Regina feels as if she's just been hit with a brick. Everything begins making sense. It floods her system enough that she momentarily pauses in what she's doing, finally comprehending the blonde's actions, finally understanding some facets of Emma's behavior tonight.

"Regina," the voice above her growls, pulling her more forcefully into the heated wetness in front of her. Regina resumes her task, letting her nails dig into Emma's ass as a subtle reminder that Regina can end this anytime she chooses.

She immediately forces her mind to get back on track, her brain absorbing information that should have been obvious from the first moment she had laid eyes Emma's drunken form beneath her window.

The storm.

She should have known; she should have realized that while the weather held no semblance for her, it obviously had for Emma. She resists yet another urge to roll her eyes.

Of course, she thinks, _of course_ Emma would do this: become paranoid, place unnecessary attention on details and warp them into something dramatic and redundant, feeding the process with vague coincidences and unstable assumptions. It certainly explains a lot.

And all of this because she had asked Emma to stay over one thunderous night? Because she didn't see the point in kicking her out into that mess when it seemed more reasonable that the sheriff just sleep over?

Regina feels another sliver of regret slice through her brain at ever giving voice to her concern, which had been minimal to begin with – not as if she cared one way or another whether Emma chose to risk her life on the streets. She knew better, she _knew_ better than to upset the balance, no matter how insignificant it felt to herself.

Now she knows just how tightly Emma has been grasping on to the aspects of their arrangement, how, almost compulsively, she's become accustomed to it. Now Regina, at least somewhat, understands why the blonde had been so insistent on coming in: It's expected. It's familiar.

It's Wednesday.

As she continues to devour the woman heaving and panting above her, she can only hope that Emma will somehow find a way to get ahold of herself, pull herself together enough to stop over-analyzing every aspect of her life. Regina will only allow herself to get bogged down with so much of the blonde's baggage before she cuts her off from her bedroom completely. And she would hate to have to replace someone so... intriguing.

Emma grunts, thrusting her hips faster as she places both hands on the dresser now, letting some of her weight rest on her upper arms. "Fuck," she breathes, feeling the pressure continuing to rise. It's still not enough though, not nearly enough, and her hips move more out of frustration than anything. Her nerves feel dulled, almost numb, from the alcohol, and what usually is enough to get her off feels more like teasing than anything, and she whimpers.

Regina seems to recognize the strained sound from above and Emma feels a hand snake its way from her ass, move around her thigh, and, without so much as a precautionary pause, two fingers shove themselves into her soaked entrance.

Emma immediately bucks harder at the welcome intrusion, her nails digging into the wood she's holding onto. "God, yes... fuck me," she pants desperately, mindlessly. Regina, whose fingers had already begun working in and out of the blonde, groans in response, feeling her own arousal becoming more inflamed.

Emma places more weight on her hands, her head hanging limply against her chest as she focuses on the feeling of getting filled at a brutal pace. Moans work their way out of her throat, and she barely even registers half the sounds she's making.

Her head raises back up at a particularly forceful thrust, and her eyes open of their own accord. It takes her a couple of minutes before she's aware that she's staring at her own reflection again. She blinks against the bleariness encroaching her vision, and witnesses, firsthand, how she looks for the first time since getting ready for work this morning.

Pale. Tired. Lines are more prominent around the features of her face. Grayish circles have formed under her reddened, nearly bloodshot eyes. Her hair lays wet and matted against her head, her shoulders. She sees what she has made herself, what she has done to herself, what she is doing to herself right now, as she rides the woman beneath her.

Biting her lip, she turns her eyes away from the harsh reflection and peers down at the brunette between her legs. Regina senses the attention and automatically lifts her gaze to lock with Emma's, her mouth never halting in its task as she stares knowingly up at the blonde.

Emma shudders almost violently in response, clawing at the dresser now as a strangled sound rips its way past her lips. Her mind becomes momentarily blank as she focuses on the deep, dark brown of Regina's eyes, losing herself in them as she struggles to keep them in sight amidst the rocking of her own body. She feels pang after pang of arousal jolt through her as she continues to watch, Regina's predatory gaze leering up at her from between her legs making her pulse and writhe against the fingers buried in her cunt, against the lips wrapped around her clit.

Emma's feels her own fingers form into a fist and then bang against the dresser top as tremors begin to wreak havoc on her muscles. She can't fight the force of her lids as they eventually clench shut again, and her other hand moves to grasp Regina's head again, needing to feel as much of her as she can without the added advantage of sight.

Her hips move on autopilot, and she's barely able to catch her breath enough to form anymore sounds, as the last ounces of worry, the last traces of frustration, anger, anxiety, fade just enough for her to feel as if she's suspended, back in that peaceful in-between place of her mind that grants her what little mercy is left within its confines.

She stills, going up on her toes, every muscle tensing, short bursts of air rocketing out of her lungs, nails digging into wood, fingers pulsating against the hair wrapped around them... then...

… a cry, another pounding of a fist, and a shudder.

Emma leans laboriously against the dresser, letting the aftershocks rock through her as Regina gradually slows the movements of her fingers. Emma feels them being pulled out altogether as she rests her upper body on the furniture, feeling just a tongue crawling lazily, deliciously over her folds as she lays her head serenely over a forearm, letting the other drape across the back of her head as she basks in the feeling of her pounding heartbeat, her rapid breathing, her sweat-soaked skin, the lingering smell of dirt and whiskey. She surrounds herself with the physical aspects, letting them continue to temporarily block out everything else.

Eventually the tongue retreats, and Emma feels herself being slightly jostled as Regina makes her way out from the cramped space she had found herself in. Emma doesn't move, feeling perfectly content to let herself drape over Regina's furniture for the rest of the evening as her limbs begin feeling heavy, her mind beginning to cloud over with the rapidly-enticing thought of sleep.

The active part of her brain that's still functioning tries to focus on her breathing, tries to keep all of the other thoughts out as she vaguely registers the heat of a hand placing itself on her shoulder. In that moment, she's instantly made aware that she has yet another choice to make: leave now... or stay. She doesn't even have the energy to groan, the energy to do much of anything, and wishes that she would magically appear in her own bed, warm and dry and worry-free.

The hand on her shoulder begins pulling lightly, as if in small encouragement to get the hell off the bureau already. Emma lets a long breath escape, only half-heartedly trying to shrug Regina off. The other woman won't be put off so easily though and the Mayor easily pulls enough to heave Emma into a standing position, Emma begrudgingly leaving the safe place of her folded arms to comply with the insistent hands.

Regina turns her so that they're face to face, not hesitating a second before pulling on the hem of Emma's shirt. Emma doesn't have it in her to feel startled much and clumsily brings her own hands up to slip underneath the lapels of Regina's robe, feeling way too tired to return the favor, but figures it's only polite to at least try, and maybe get a couple of good gropes in.

Regina immediately slaps her hands away, looking indignant. "Really, Ms. Swan."

Emma furrows her brow, blinking dumbly back at her. Regina's hands return to her shirt and in seconds it is removed from her body, her damp skin forming immediate goosebumps at the exposure. Her bra is the next thing to go, Regina reaching around to make quick work of it. Emma has the urge to protest, to tell Regina that she just doesn't have another round in her, but her leg being unceremoniously hiked up distracts her and she nearly falls sideways, feeling the remnants of her jeans being pulled completely from the lone limb that it had still been holding onto, the boot and socks coming with it.

Emma shivers, completely nude at this point. She blinks again, trying to push back the sleepy fuzziness edging itself further into her brain. She opens her mouth to tell Regina that she's not up for anymore, but Regina has already turned away from her and begun picking up the rest of the wet, sodden clothes thrown carelessly on her floor. She gets the sense that Regina is just itching to tell her off for the wet marks left behind, not knowing if the tick in the other woman's jaw is just her sleepy, drunken imagination or something very real.

Regina walks hastily out of the room, bundle of Emma's clothes in tow, and Emma stands rooted to the spot, still not sure what all is going on. She's facing the window and has the rash thought that she's supposed to leave now, supposed to topple out in the nude the way she had come in, humiliate herself as some form of punishment. Is Regina still expecting her to be here when she returns? Is Regina burning her clothes right now as she stands stupidly in her bedroom? Will Regina demand that Emma, too, get on her knees for her?

Her head begins feeling even more heavy, random thoughts becoming jumbled, and just as she makes the decision to just sway on the spot until Regina comes back, she hears the brunette making her entrance.

"You need to sleep, Ms. Swan," comes the low, bland tone from behind her. Regina appears beside her then, handing her a fresh towel with which to dry off any last traces of rain. "I've put your clothes in the wash, they'll be ready for you in the morning."

Emma takes the towel and holds it to her chest, letting it offer the minimal warmth it's capable of as she tries to pay attention to Regina's words, slowly realizing that Regina didn't keep her here for sex.

"Now, you can either sleep in here or you're welcome to one of the guest rooms," Regina says evenly, looking completely uninterested in the topic of conversation.

Emma feels a fresh flare-up in the back of her mind. "I... I should just go," she mumbles, clinging onto the towel as if she actually plans on walking out the front door with it as her covering.

"Don't be a fool," Regina snaps impatiently. "You are in no state to drive, especially not in this weather. How you even made it here alive to begin with-"

"I didn't drive," Emma says automatically, not even remembering the walk over to the Mayor's residence.

Regina looks a little struck, then quickly recovers with a sigh. "All the more reason for you to just stay here; I'm not going to let my Sheriff wander the streets in these conditions. You'd most likely pass out in a hedge before you made it home anyway," she states passively.

At this point, Emma is inclined to agree.

"Now, I'm going to go draw another bath. The closest guestroom is down the hall and to the left, should you wish to sleep there. I'll -"

"Did you..." Emma interrupts, an earlier suspicion choosing to give rise as she tries to focus her eyes enough to meet Regina's. "Was... was Ruby here?" She asks, trying to keep the tired slur out of her voice.

Regina's eyebrows raise. "I beg your pardon?"

Emma takes a deep breath, feeling something begin to smolder in the pit of her stomach. "After everything we... discussed... on Monday... after I specifically told you to leave her alone... did you invite Ruby here tonight?" Emma feels the familiar creeping sensation of dread, of paranoia begin to inch up her spine, as she remembers climbing into the window to find Regina scarcely dressed.

"Ms. Swan, if that girl's presence was in my house, I certainly wasn't aware of it," Regina says smoothly, patronizingly, though not able to keep the confusion from flickering across her face.

Emma watches her closely, as though fooling herself into believing that she would be able to spot a lie in her current state.

"What ever makes you ask such a thing?" Regina asks, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Emma breaks eye contact then, realizing that her evidence is rather on the weak side. Regina could have been naked for a lot of reasons, it didn't necessarily mean it was for Ruby's sake.

"Nothing," she mutters, feeling stupider the longer she thinks about it.

Regina peers at her, taking in Emma's general demeanor. "Well, regardless, you are the only visitor I've had this evening, Ms. Swan. Not surprising given the circumstances."

Emma doesn't know what else to do but nod awkwardly, feeling more than a little relieved that Ruby was still safe, untainted.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Regina says, breezing by Emma once again before disappearing into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind her.

Emma clutches onto the towel more tightly, still not able to stop the shivers from coursing up and down her body. She can already feel her brain wanting to overload again, but this time the process is much slower, creeping its way in, instead of slamming into her like a tractor trailer as it had been doing previously.

This time, she's able to push back, drowsiness overtaking every thought that's wanting to crop up. She drops the towel, not allowing herself to spare any more fuel on the what-ifs, and promptly crawls onto Regina's bed. She sweeps the many decorative pillows adorning the surface onto the floor, then peels back the coverings before burrowing herself underneath them, sighing against the grateful warmth surrounding her on all sides.

The familiar scent of Regina lingers in the linens, and as Emma beings to drift off to sleep, she has the last, vague, brittle thought of not wanting to be anywhere else.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** My apologies for the amount time it took for me to update. I can't promise a quicker update next time, but I'll do my best to kick my ass into gear. I'm aware this chapter is heavily redundant, annoyingly so, but if I didn't post it as is, I probably never would have posted it at all, so I hope it didn't put too many people off. Please let me know what you think of the chapter.

Thank you for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

It hurts.

A dull throbbing ache...

Intermittent, sharp spikes of pain searing through every few seconds...

She wraps herself tighter in the sheets surrounding her, burrowing her head under the pillow as she cocoons herself completely, soft fabric pressing against every inch of her skin.

The suffocating confines of her covered form immediately cause her to be surrounded with an aggressive heat that warms her from head to toe, and she welcomes it. She registers nothing else, not of the capacity to even want to. Focusing on the intense warmth enveloping her, instead of the pounding of her head and the subtle churning of her stomach, she wills herself to drift back off into a slumber that had been surprisingly pleasant.

She feels the heaviness of sleep drawing her back in and is just about to relax into it completely when a heavy grunt startles her back awake. Her eyes shoot open on reflex and she can feel her heartbeat begin to thunder in her throat. The queasiness of her stomach escalates as her body is forced to awaken against its will, going on alert. Her brain is slow to catch up and she sluggishly wonders if she had imagined the sound or if Mary-Margaret knocked something over downstairs.

After a few seconds of hazily listening from the hide-out of her pillow, she hears nothing more and wants to groan in irritation, but finds her throat to be very dry. She swallows, but it doesn't help, and it's then that she becomes aware of how thirsty she is. But even that isn't enough to get her to vacate the comfortable heat she's wrapped herself in, and her reddened, slightly puffy eyes slip closed once again as she tries to ignore the aching throb encompassing her body.

A pull, an abrupt nagging sensation forms in the back of her mind, determined to rouse her to full consciousness, but she resists. Whatever it is, she doesn't want to know, doesn't want to confront, doesn't want to even acknowledge. She groggily believes that it can wait until after she's had about 20 more hours of sleep and a horse tranquilizer.

Before she's even able to draw more than a couple of breaths, she hears another rumble, this one quieter, but still gruff in nature. Now she knows she wasn't imagining that. She drowsily recognizes the sound as a snore, and it takes her another second to register the vicinity of the sound.

Then Emma feels her stomach plummet – realization dawning hard and fast in her gut as she finally connects the queasiness and throbbing behind her eyelids to that of being royally hungover and, what's more, that she is currently not the only one in this bed.

Fear briefly tingles along the base of her skull when she can't readily place where she is or how she got here, and her stiff limbs begin to subtly clench and tighten in on themselves as they have done many times in the past when she's been confronted with the unfamiliar.

She could take her head out from under the pillow, sit up and have a look around, but the thought of moving at the moment is extremely undesirable. Not to mention the possibility of having her retinas burned out of her face should it already be morning.

The pull she had felt earlier becomes more insistent and a light dimly goes off in her head, but it's too indistinct and she remains ignorant of it.

Her breathing starts to become shallow as a fog continues to cloud her brain, making it nearly impossible for her to think clearly enough to get her bearings. She attempts to take a deeper, calming breath, her mouth thick and heavy with the bitter taste of alcohol, and almost as if on cue, the bottle of whiskey blares to the surface of her mind's eye in recognition of the pungent tang.

Acid tingles up her throat in remembrance, and before she can comprehend what's happening, she becomes bombarded with a slew of new images too quickly for her brain to process, a strong wave of accompanying nausea threatening to unseat her as a result.

Emma realizes that she is in too much of a haze, confusion hitting her from all sides as everything becomes distorted and unfocused. With colors and indistinguishable shapes beginning to dance around in her head, Emma struggles to shut herself down before she vomits.

As the garbled mess of images continues to breeze haphazardly behind the lids of her eyes, she reaches up and presses the pillow more firmly against the side of her head, a heaviness settling in her chest.

She takes about 3 deep breaths before the scent catches her attention, her brain grinding to a halt long enough for her to register that she knows this smell.

She knows it very well.

Annoyingly well.

Emma groans, wanting to feel anything other than the small bout of relief that splashes over her. She puts it down to the wayward thought of rather being here than waking up in a stranger's bed, and chooses to focus once more on taming the contents of her stomach now that she can relax somewhat knowing where she is.

She doesn't know how much time has passed, but the flashing colors and constant blurs have become dimmer, slower... before fading altogether into dull fumes that disperse with every exhale.

She gives the nausea another few minutes to settle, then, before she can talk herself out of it, she gingerly rolls from her side onto her back, letting herself rest in the new position briefly as her body churns and protests, before heaving herself onto her other side to face the source of the smell, of the grunting, of everything. Her pillow shifts awkwardly with her movements and lays atop her head in an unruly fashion, allowing one of her eyes to peek out from underneath it as she brings her knees up towards her chest to make herself more comfortable.

What she first becomes aware of is the stark blackness of the room and she realizes that it must still be night time, for there are gratefully no blasphemous rays of sunlight present for her to shy away from. The bleariness of her vision hardly improves as the minutes tick by, but she doesn't have to see the dark, live mass beside her to know it's there.

Emma's almost complete lack of surprise at waking up next to Regina cools the part of her brain that wants to immediately react. She's not sure she would even have the energy for it were the fuel available.

Before she thinks better of it, she tentatively reaches a hand out from the tangle of bed covers she's wrapped herself in, as if needing to physically feel the evidence for her to be assured of its presence. She slowly, haltingly begins to stretch an arm out. Before she's able to fully extend her fingers, the tips are clumsily met with a soft heat. She quickly retracts her fingers, not expecting to be as close as she is to the other woman, and waits for any signs of stirring.

After moments pass and no movement is felt, she reaches her hand out again, much slower, much more cautious this time.

Her fingers inch slowly enough for her to be able to feel the heat emanating from the skin in front of her before she's made contact. She lets the tips of her fingers hover a few seconds more, then sighs and takes her hand away, suddenly lacking the nerve to complete her hand's journey. She pulls it back into her cocoon of safety as she nestles deeper into the sheets, one eye still fixated on the outline that is slowly taking shape as her vision adjusts.

As Regina's shape becomes more visible, so do some of Emma's memories of last night. Part of her doesn't want to remember, for whatever reason. Of the scant remembrances that have lingered since she became aware of where she was, she already knows there isn't much to be proud of. But the twisting in her chest demands that she fill in the blanks, that she at least try to make sense of everything.

Begrudgingly she sighs before deciding that she may as well get it over with, preferably before Regina wakes up and makes it that much harder for her.

So as to not become saturated with everything all at once, she thinks back to the start of her day. She remembers, a little too clearly, how long and droning the work day had been, so her mind skips ahead to when she had been driving home – the rattling thunder and streaks of lightning serving as a dim reminder for later events – then jumps to when she had her shower, then lands on Mary-Margaret's kitchen table.

She remembers sitting there for a long while – her stomach roils again in remembrance of the bottle sitting atop the surface – but only vaguely recalls how many times her lips touched the mouth of her glass. She knows she spoke with Mary-Margaret, but can't decipher the jumbled up words that she sees her roommate speaking to her in her mind's eye.

Her brain then flickers over to the form of her sprawled out on her bed with a queasiness that almost resembles the kind she feels now. Her head begins to throb more heavily as she's able to recall some of the emotions that had lashed at her unrelentingly almost the entire time she had been home: the anger, the uncertainty, the constant doubt that wouldn't stop bobbing to the surface.

Emma works to push those feelings aside, her brow furrowing as she tries to remember how she got from her own bed to this one, amidst everything she had been feeling and the amount of alcohol she had consumed. She concentrates, pushing past the headache, then brief flashes show her stumbling back down the stairs, bottle in hand... Mary-Margaret's face swimming to the forefront... then Emma throwing open the door to the apartment and leaving.

After that, she's met with only indistinct images and flashes that remain scattered amongst her brain like badly cut-out puzzle pieces. Rain... mud... She sees herself at Regina's door, then under her window... yelling... shaking... She then sees herself smashing the whiskey bottle against the side of the house... but no, she hadn't done that... had she?

Emma squeezes her eyes shut as she continues to not hear the words being said, but remembers the emotions they evoked within her. Hatred... longing... fear... wanting. The pure confliction of her emotions from however long ago begin to drown her in renewed confusion and exhaustion, the sharp, searing slivers of pain returning to pierce through her skull.

She becomes startled as new memories begin to flicker in rapid succession behind her scrunched lids, except this time the fog has lifted and she can make out most of what she's seeing.

Everything blazes behind her eyes, causing a heat that shoots down to the base of spine then back up again as she's suddenly in Regina's bedroom... grabbing Regina... kissing Regina...

Emma becomes aware of the dull ache in her shoulders from where Regina had been attempting to push her away, can almost feel the heat of the other woman's hand wrapped around her throat. She squirms a little beneath the sheets, readjusting herself as she struggles to comprehend the scenes being played out behind her eyes, not entirely recognizing herself.

Her mind then jumps to the part of the evening that is strangely the most vivid: ... Regina on her knees.

But the image fades, gets lost in a confusing swirl of mirrors and fingers and shadowed eyes.

The rest of the night is left as a smear upon the poorly-adopted canvas of her mind; only capable of recalling the sudden cold she had felt instilled in her, followed by the warmth she finds herself still surrounded in.

Emma absently nuzzles the sheets before slowly opening her eyes, her brain feeling chafed from the jagged edges of the puzzle pieces scraping across its surface to fit crudely back together.

Aside from the headache and light nausea, she's surprised by how much she doesn't feel in this moment. She finds it rather strange... how quiet her mind is, how tame her body has become now that she's somewhat aware of what happened the night before.

Surely Emma should be panicking, questioning, over-thinking, doing _something_. Last night was unprecedented. She might not have caught everything that happened, but she's aware enough to know that she crossed some serious boundaries, willfully defied the other woman to the point where Emma can still feel the gouges in the skin of her shoulders.

The general loss of control, of reason, of her sanity, and the fact that she had exposed herself in such an unrestrained, raw manner should be putting her on overdrive, should be filling her with an intense need to get away, as far as she can from the woman who bore witness to such weaknesses.

And yet, her muscles refuse to strain, refuse to tense in preparation, and her mind continues to choke off paranoid scenarios that seek to latch onto her thoughts and cause distress.

Emma finds herself increasingly aware of the fact that she has no intention of leaving, of abandoning the warmth she has now in favor of whatever lay outside. She feels grounded, almost tethered, to the fact that despite what she had done, despite the lines crossed, she still ended up in Regina's bed. Regina could have left her to find her way home in the rain or, at most, let her sleep on the couch, but no. Despite everything, Emma had still been invited into the woman's sheets.

That thought alone is what keeps the niggling fear at bay, the dread from inching along her spine at the idea that Emma had managed to ruin whatever is between them.

As she casts another look toward the sleeping form of the other woman, she cautiously awaits the presence of the obnoxious little voice in her head, knowing that it should be making its return any minute now, feeding her with its usual diatribe, whispering unwanted truths into her brain for going against everything she knows.

As she lays there, breathing her own hot, stuffy air, waiting for the anvil to fall, she hardly notices as sleep once again clouds over without a single murmur.

xxxxx

She hears the quiet chirping of the birds and knows that if she were to turn over, she would be met with sunlight burning a path across her bed.

Regina slowly shifts and turns her head toward the window, letting the light streaming through it warm her face as she feels herself beginning to awaken.

Several moments later she turns towards the clock, her eyes sliding open gently. Noting that she's actually making good time, she chooses to lay in bed for just a minute longer. God knows she needs all the rest she can get. She'll be expected to show her face here and there as the damage to the town is surveyed, and who knows how long that's going to take, not to mention all the paperwork that lays in store. She can only hope that any damage done is minimal and won't set Storybrooke back for any length of time.

She sighs and sits up, finally ready to start the day. As she turns to wake the other occupant, Regina suddenly freezes as she sees what can only be described as a giant... lump... taking up the other side of the bed.

Regina blinks, not expecting Emma to have made herself _this_ comfortable. As she scans her eyes along the small mound, she notices that the only thing visible of the woman is a tiny sliver of blonde hair sticking out from underneath the pillow.

She quirks her eyebrow and wonders how she should go about waking Emma from her slumber. The last time she were in the position to do so, she had been elbowed, quite painfully, in the chest. Regina has the half-hearted idea to go to her study and grab the poker from the fireplace, maybe jab the Sheriff awake from a small distance, but quickly pushes it aside – a little hesitant to wake the volatile woman up with a weapon in the vicinity.

She knows that no matter how she goes about waking Emma up, the blonde is more than likely going to be her usual surly, grumpy self – only moreso because of the alcohol ingested.

Regina groans and slumps a little, rubbing her eyes. The alcohol. She hopes beyond hope that Emma retains at least some of her memory. She just does not have the patience to be pestered for questions, not today. But on the brighter side, she assumes that whatever awkward state the blonde had been in last night is out of her system, hopefully for good, considering Regina had come out of the bathroom to find the woman buried contentedly in her own sheets instead of the guest room's.

Regina had been mildly surprised, but could only see it as a good sign – thinking that maybe Emma would finally be able to act more maturely about their arrangement in the future.

Instead of knocking her awake like Regina had done last time, she chooses the more cautious route and leans over to pluck the pillow off of Emma's head. Hoping that the bright rays of sunlight will be enough to suitably rouse her, Regina is left disappointed.

Emma feels a vibrant throb pulse painfully behind her eyelids as what was once black turns into a blinding shade of orange, and she jerks the covers back over her eyes in protest, thinking that it can't possibly be morning already.

Before long she feels part of the coverings around her face trying to be tugged away. She clenches her eyes shut and tightens her grip, an agitated grumble escaping as she tries to keep the sunlight out.

After her ear is none-too-gently uncovered, she hears a raspy voice hissing, "Ms. Swan," into it. Emma ignores the voice, already feeling a seed of annoyance forming at the words. This isn't necessarily how she envisioned her morning playing out.

Insistent hands begin to nudge and rock her sleepy form, more hissed whispers of "Ms. Swan," following every other push.

Finally, the rocking proves too much for her sensitive stomach, and Emma rips the covers off her face enough to gruffly croak, "I'll be up in a minute, Regina. Christ," then she jerks away from the hands before bundling herself back up into a tense, sleepy ball.

There is a pause before Regina replies, "Well, at least you know where you are. That's certainly a start." Emma barely notices that Regina sounds more pleased than sardonic, and tries to focus on keeping the brunt of her headache at bay.

She feels the bed dip as Regina gets up, and over the next few minutes she hears various shuffling sounds as Regina moves throughout the room.

As Emma continues to lay nestled in the sheets, she waits, yet again, for the impending regret to hit her for choosing to stay, for the panic to set it, for the response to flee as soon as humanly possible. But, again, it lays dormant. She knows she should feel some uneasiness at how, well, how _comfortable_ she feels in Regina's bed. It feels wrong to be adjusting this quickly, this soon, like a betrayal of her nature... like a betrayal to herself.

But she wonders if maybe she is supposed to adjust, supposed to move forward.

She doesn't have long to marvel at this seemingly new facet of her life before she feels herself being swept back into sleepy depths; any other thoughts about the matter bleeding into each other and her stream of consciousness becoming incoherent as she loses herself once again to the warmth surrounding her.

As Regina busies herself with getting dressed, she can't help but glance every now and then at the lump of blankets taking up one side of her bed. Emma knows where she is, knows that she is in Regina's bed. And yet... the girl continues to lay there. Regina had been expecting a multitude of reactions from the blonde, but this was definitely one of the better scenarios... in its own way.

At the very worst, she had been expecting Emma to react harshly, maybe even violently, and demanding to know how she ended up in Regina's house, and very possibly accuse Regina of wrongdoings in the matter.

But, as Regina continues to sweep her gaze over to the lightly snoring Sheriff, she feels that she has gotten rather lucky. Maybe Emma remembers more than Regina thinks. Maybe Emma really has grown, has matured to a point. Perhaps Emma even needed something like last night to happen, needed the alcohol to expose at least some parts of her, in order to let those same parts heal.

Even as she thinks it, Regina knows she's giving Emma too much credit in that regard.

Regina remembers how things used to be between them, on those scheduled Sundays and Wednesdays. Emma would sneak in through the front door, come straight to Regina's bedroom, then they would strip either themselves or each other, get on with what they had met up for, then Emma would leave the way she had come in, as if nothing had ever happened.

There were no drunken affairs, no expressed needs, no morning afters...

Perhaps Regina was just good at adapting... maybe a little too good. As she begins buttoning up her crisp, white blouse, she thinks back to that night a week ago, when she had asked Emma to stay, when she had set forth a chain of events that would lead her to this moment.

Emma had collapsed on top of her, and Regina felt light, sated. The lightning had caught her eye as she laid upon her bed, catching her breath, and as Emma rolled off of her, about to leave the bed that she and Regina just debauched, Regina had reached out and grasped the blonde's wrist.

She barely even remembers saying it, whispering those damning words... "Why don't you stay?"

At the time, she hadn't considered the heaviness of them, the implications that would transpire from them. She had a good semblance of Emma's character at that point, but even she wasn't prepared for how far the sheriff would take her imagination. Waking up to find Emma frozen in the doorway of her bedroom had been surprising, to say the least. Rain had still been beating down, and the lightning was constant.

But to hear Emma's reasons for wanting to leave... well, that had been startling. The very idea that Regina had used Emma staying over as an indicator for wanting to advance their otherwise prosaic relationship was outrageous. She was Regina Mills for fuck's sake. Even she was aware of what the more emboldened citizens said about her: the usual cliches involving her heart being made of ice, her blood being as black and corrosive as her soul. The more inventive youth had more crass descriptions for her; not that the tales of children or anyone else bothered her. For Emma to think Regina had been trying to escalate their time together beyond anything other than a good fuck had been unexpected, odd even. But she can only assume that whatever had taken hold of Emma has now released its stubborn grip.

Emma isn't aware of how much time has passed, but she doesn't care as she feels herself being disturbed, yet again; this time by something being tossed on top of her.

"The hell, Regina..." she grumbles, poking her head out to see what it was she was hit with. She looks down and sees that her clothes from yesterday have been thrown on the bed. Emma lets her head fall back on the mattress. "I said give me a minute," she says with exasperation. She is in no mood to start this day. The thought of moving is still too exhausting. Emma had originally planned on being grateful to Regina for putting up with her last night, and maybe even saying as much, but her agitation with the brunette is almost reflexive and she's too tired to tamp it down.

"And I have given you twenty," Regina says, the impatience in her tone heavy. "Now get up, get dressed, and get out of my bedroom."

Emma picks her head up to scowl at the brunette and Regina gives her a tight smile in return before heading into the bathroom.

Emma rolls her eyes, then another thought hits her.

"You know you grunt in your sleep!" She calls from the bed before she forgets, carefully beginning to untangle herself from the sheets.

"I do what?" Regina calls back, sounding distracted.

"Grunt," Emma answers, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and groaning as she gingerly lifts herself from the mattress.

"You must be mistaken. I do not _grunt_."

Emma trudges her way around the bed, completely ignoring her clothes, and leans against the door frame of the bathroom, finding Regina hovering in front of the expansive mirror hanging along the wall as she applies her make-up.

"You do. Well, actually, it was more like sporadic snoring. It woke me up a couple times during the night." Emma cocks her head to the side as she stares at Regina's reflection. "You should probably get that checked out." A Breathe-Right strip wouldn't hurt, Emma thinks snidely, remembering the unattractive sound that had awoken her.

Regina purses her lips but says nothing as she continues to fuss with her face, not having the time to indulge in Emma's candor.

After a minute, Regina notices Emma's naked form walk further into the room, then lean casually against the wall behind her, staring at her through the mirror.

"Yes?" Regina asks, pulling a tube of mascara out, not bothering to hide her gaze as she gives Emma's nude reflection a once-over.

"I need to use the bathroom," Emma replies, somewhat irritably.

Regina sighs. "And you can't use the one down the hall because...?"

"Henry," Emma says pointedly, as if Regina should know.

"Can't you hold it?" Regina replies, agitation creeping into her voice.

"If you knew how much whiskey I drank last night, you wouldn't be asking me that question."

"Oh, believe me, dear, I have a good idea of how much you consumed," Regina says, her tone stern as she puts the mascara back and grabs her lipstick.

"Regina," Emma sighs, looking away in mixed embarrassment and annoyance.

"Fine," Regina huffs, throwing the lipstick back in her make-up bag. "Just hurry it up." She goes back into the bedroom, closing the bathroom door behind her.

Once Emma has done her business and washed her hands, she begrudgingly looks up into the mirror, needing to see what she's going to have to work with for the rest of the day.

She looks like hell.

_What else did you expect, Swan? _she thinks to herself, taking in the worn features of her face. Looking down at the rest of her body, she's mildly surprised by how pasty white her skin looks – making the scars and random bruises laying atop the surface appear more visible in contrast.

She turns to her left, then to her right, twisting her body and scrutinizing any unfamiliar marks that she managed to sustain from the night before. Once she's checked herself over, she turns her gaze to her hair. If she had been expecting it to maybe look a little ruffled, then she had sorely underestimated her hair's ability to look completely fucked up.

She runs a hand through it several times to tame it and it works somewhat, but more than a few locks remain determined to stick up at odd angles. She groans, then gets an idea, spotting her saving grace in the mirror's reflection.

"Hey!" She calls through the door. "I'm gonna take a quick shower, be out in a few!" As Emma eyes the array of expensive products lining the shelf behind the glass door she admits that maybe sleeping over has its perks.

Before she's even taken two steps, the bathroom door swings open. "I don't think so, Ms. Swan. Get your clothes on."

"But-"

"Now."

Emma glares.

"Ms. Swan, we do not have time for this, _I_ do not have time for this. Get dressed."

"It would actually be faster for me if I cleaned up here instead of at-"

"No, because I'm leaving in 5 minutes and I am not about to leave you in my house alone."

"Seriously? I'm a mess!"

Regina's eyebrow ticks up as if to say 'not my problem', and she vacates the doorway to finish applying her make-up at the bureau.

Emma continues to stand in the bathroom, feeling extremely aggravated. Physically, she feels rather gross. There's an unpleasant stickiness to her, and it feels as though there is a thin layer of filth covering the entire expanse of her body. The longer she stands there, the more aware she becomes of how desperately she needs to clean up.

"Move it, Swan!" Regina barks from the bedroom. Emma jumps slightly, then grumpily marches from the bathroom to the bed.

"You," Emma grouses, snatching her underwear off the bed, "are a horrible morning person."

"Others would say I am simply efficient," Regina replies, slipping into her heels.

As Emma begins to pull her jeans towards her next, she catches a whiff of something. It takes her a second to realize that it's coming from her clothes. "You washed my clothes?" Emma asks, shoving her legs into the fresh-smelling denim. She had assumed the most Regina would have done is throw them in the dryer.

"I told you last night I was going to. Don't you remember? Oh, wait..." Regina trails off, her mocking smirk back in place.

"Ha ha," Emma mumbles, picking her belt up off the bed. As she begins running the leather through the loops of her jeans, the buckle clinks together. Both women pause and glance at the belt, then at each other in somewhat awkward recognition, before Emma buckles it and Regina turns back around to the mirror to do some last minute adjustments to her hair.

Emma is fingering the smooth metal of the belt buckle when she chances another glance at Regina. Suddenly the scene of her pushing Regina up hard against the bureau hours prior flashes once more in her mind. A small coil of arousal twists low in her abdomen, but she can't help the somewhat bigger knot of guilt that nags at her in remembrance.

Emma clears her throat as she rifles through the clothes that remain. "I, uh... sorry... about the, um..." she gestures to where Regina is standing, then looks away as she begins pulling on her bra.

Regina momentarily pauses in her primping to look at Emma's reflected form in the mirror.

"I'm still not letting you use my shower," Regina replies after a moment, not letting Emma's terrible ploy of remorse wiggle its way in to leach from her.

Emma pauses in pulling her socks on. "That-" she huffs. "That wasn't what... I wasn't trying to... God, just forget it."

And Regina does, lacking any and all patience to deal with the sheriff's stammering this morning.

"Since some of your memory _has_ been affected," Regina says, abruptly changing the subject as she gives herself a once-over, "let me repeat myself. Not under any circumstance are you to come to my house under the influence again. Nor are you to forcibly invite yourself into my home." She turns from the mirror then to look directly at Emma and make sure she has her full attention. "And you are to never disregard my consent again."

Emma feels the shame flood her body unexpectedly, and she nods her head in agreement before pulling her shirt on.

"The next time you pull another stunt like that, I will have you arrested. I don't care what day it is. Am I clear? Had it not been storming out, I'm sure your shouting would have woken half the neighborhood, not to mention Henry. And who knows how much damage your boots did my house when you decided to be an idiot and climb up the side. What if you had fallen? How would I have explained your presence outside of my house at that hour to the paramedics? To everyone?" Regina continues, gathering some of her things. "You put a lot at risk last night, Ms. Swan, and I will not have that happening again."

"It won't," Emma says, shoving her boots on. She quickly laces them up then stands up fully, looking around, trying to ignore the embarrassed flush she can feel heating up her chest at Regina's words. Now that it's all out in the open, maybe they can move past the whole thing.

"Um... where's my jacket?" She asks tentatively. This will be the second one she has lost in a matter of days; the first one having been left behind at Town Hall. Emma can't afford to keep replacing them. Did she lose it in the climb up somehow? Did she even wear it over here?

"Oh. It hadn't completely dried yet, but..." Regina trails off, leaving the bedroom.

Emma continues to stand awkwardly by Regina's bed, shuffling from side to side. A moment later the brunette reappears, and Emma is slightly shocked to see the jacket she had forgotten outside of the Mayor's office currently in Regina's hands.

"Here," Regina says briskly, handing the jacket to her with just her finger and thumb. "This one should do just fine." Regina scowls at the material, as if repulsed by it even being in her house.

"You kept my jacket?" Emma asks, sounding a little dumbfounded as she slips it on over her shirt.

Regina looks affronted. "I didn't _keep_ it. I was waiting for an opportunity to give it back to you and it wasn't safe at the office. I caught Helen attempting to run a sleeve through the garbage disposal after you left."

Emma shifts the jacket a little, then walks around Regina to have a look at herself in the mirror. "And you saved it? How chivalrous of you, Madam Mayor," she says blandly, trying again to smooth out her hair.

Regina narrows her eyes. "I simply wanted to avoid any petulance from you that may have occurred should Helen have been successful."

"Oh, Regina, don't be so coy. You were defending my honor, weren't you?" Emma taunts, her mood escalating a few notches now that she's back in possession of her favorite piece of of attire. Slipping it on seemed to add to her confidence, all but eliminating the feeling of being a chastised child.

"I was doing no such thing," Regina grounds out.

Emma catches Regina's eye in the mirror and sees her hardened features.

"Geez, do you ever lighten up out of bed?"

Regina's eyes flash, but she chooses to keep her mouth shut, not willing to play into Emma's hand.

"Ah, fuck it. I'll deal with it at Mary-Margaret's," Emma says, running a hand through her hair one last time.

Regina tears her scrutinizing eyes away from Emma and glances at the clock, feeling a jolt in her stomach at how much time has passed. She immediately heads towards the bedroom door, turning back when she realizes that Emma hasn't moved.

"If you would promptly exit so I can be on my way," she says impatiently from the doorway, tapping her nails against the frame.

Emma adjusts her jacket one last time in the mirror before making to follow Regina.

Regina's eyes widen. "Oh, no," she says, raising her hand. "That way." She points towards the window.

"What?" Emma asks, her relaxed demeanor evaporating. "No way."

"Henry," Regina throws back in her face.

"I'll just wait for you guys to leave then."

"No."

"But-"

"You are, yet again, making us both late," Regina says.

"Actually I think you're the one being difficult here, Regina."

Regina steps back into the bedroom, shutting the door impatiently. "You've never had a problem leaving through the window before."

"Because when I do go out that way I don't have a choice," Emma replies, stepping closer.

"And what makes you think you have one now?" Regina whispers menacingly, her hot breath hitting Emma's face.

After a few moments of glaring at one another, Emma finally sighs. "You're a real bitch, you know that?"

"So I've been told."

"If I just-"

"No. We're running late, so you-"

"God, this is why we should move one of our days to the weekend."

"I fail to see how that would make this circumstance any different. Henry does still live here, whether weekday or weekend," Regina snaps.

"Well, maybe then I could sleep in for once in this freaking place and I'd be able to get a sentence out without you cutting me off every five seconds telling me we're late!"

"Oh, don't worry, dear. I doubt it will storm that often," Regina retorts with mocking placation.

Emma looks taken aback before she quickly recovers. "Well..." She attempts, shifting back just a little. "Maybe then I could get a decent night's sleep at my own place afterwards. Staying here late into the night, then going home and having to get up early for work the next morning is starting to get tiring. If we just moved one of the days-"

"I don't think so, Ms. Swan."

"Why the fuck not?"

"Why not?" Regina snaps. "Why not? You nearly had a nervous breakdown last night because I turned you down on one of our days, because I changed things. Now you all of a sudden want to mix it all up? No thank you. I've seen what change does to you, Ms. Swan. And believe me, it is not a pleasant experience for either of us, so-"

"Stop," Emma seethes, her body flooding with fresh humiliation. She feels her chest tighten as heat rolls beneath the skin, inching up her neck and crawling up to color her cheeks.

"I will not put my reputation at risk any further because you can't handle-"

Emma hastily presses a finger to Regina's mouth. "Shut up," she states hotly, her stature tense. Regina's eyes widen before narrowing into a glare, but she says nothing more. Emma leans in closer, slightly surprised that the move worked.

"Haven't I proven that I can come around to change, Regina?" Emma asks seriously, looking Regina in the eye as she removes her finger. "I know things have been...rocky lately, but we've sort of balanced everything out again, haven't we?"

Regina remains silent.

"Just at least consider moving the days." She doesn't feel as if she is asking for too much here. Yes, it's another change, but Emma feels it's only rational. It'll be one less day that she's not a sloppy, physical mess. Surely Regina would appreciate her not looking like a hobo the next time she happens to strut into the station for some reason or another.

"You've smeared my lipstick," Regina accuses, running her thumb absently under her bottom lip.

"Regina," Emma sighs, her own patience running thin. The brunette keeps bypassing the wayward smudge and Emma finally reaches up and thumbs the residue away herself. "There, now will you-"

"I will... consider it," she answers with hesitance, belatedly slapping Emma's hand away. "But you have 5 minutes to get yourself through that window and out of sight before I leave to take Henry to school. Now go," she warns, closing the bedroom door behind her and effectively ending the argument.

"Thanks so much for your consideration, Your Majesty," Emma whispers to herself, making her way irritably towards the window.

She takes one last look around the room, then slides the pane open and climbs out.

xxxxx

Emma unlocks the door to her apartment before swinging it open, striding through, then kicking it shut, placing her jacket carefully on the hook once inside.

She heads directly for the bathroom, moving her hands to the hem of her shirt to strip it off in preparation for a quick shower (she's certainly not going to go to work wearing the same clothes as yesterday, even if they do smell good), then she suddenly notices Mary-Margaret sitting on the couch.

"Oh! Hey..." Emma says, pulling her shirt back down. "Aren't you supposed to be at the school by now?"

"I've been up all night," Mary-Margaret replies steadily. "What's a few minutes more?"

Emma immediately tenses at her roommate's words, recognizing the undertone. "All night? What for?" She asks, already knowing the answer but not ready to willingly throw herself into the fire.

"Making sure that you made it back alive." Mary-Margaret turns her hard gaze on Emma's guilty form. "With the way you left last night, I wasn't sure when I'd next see you again."

Emma chews on her lip, not liking how Mary-Margaret's words are making her feel. "Well... I'm okay," she mumbles, inching towards the bathroom, ready to end the conversation before it gets too heavy.

"Obviously," Mary-Margaret bites out, letting a deafening silence follow as she sees through Emma's transparent attempt to get away.

Emma stares at the floor, caught, knowing that she can't avoid what's already in front of her and shrugs her shoulders.

"Where were you?" Mary-Margaret finally asks, her face remaining tense as she glares accusingly at Emma.

Emma shuffles her feet, a number of names and places flying through her head. She finally settles on, "I... was just at a friend's place." Not the most imaginative excuse, admittedly.

"Which friend?"

"Does it matter?" Emma questions automatically, not liking how quickly this has turned into an interrogation.

"To me it does."

Emma can feel the annoyance building up within her and tries her best to smother it, giving Mary-Margaret a reassuring smile. "The only thing that matters is that I'm home now, and in desperate need of a shower, so..." she trails off, turning around to make her way to the bathroom.

Suddenly, the blurry vision of Mary-Margaret swims once again into her mind from the previous evening, when Emma had run into her while trying to leave the apartment in favor of going to see Regina. She halts her steps and faces the brunette once again, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Um... when I left last night... did we talk? Did I say something?" She has to be sure that she didn't inadvertently bring Regina or anything else potentially damaging up.

The brunette turns back towards the television, her stony expression beginning to crack. "I- I believe you told me to..." she stammers, her voice struggling to remain hard, "... to 'eff off'... except you didn't exactly censor yourself. And then- then you just left."

Emma feels a fresh spark of shame flame beneath her skin. Before she's able to respond, Mary-Margaret whips her head back around to face Emma.

"I was only trying to help," she says with renewed anger.

"I know," Emma says hurriedly. "I know. I was just drunk and not thinking. I don't... Please don't take what I said personally. To be honest, I say that to everyone when I've had a few too many."

Mary-Margaret looks torn, resentment and concern battling across her features.

"I just wish you would talk to me, Emma," she says finally, sounding exasperated. "I know you don't particularly like engaging with people, but you can't just down a bottle of whiskey and take off, especially with the weather being what it was. I was worried."

Emma starts fidgeting, crumpling the edge of her shirt between her fingers in a rhythmic motion as she takes in Mary-Margaret's words. She supposes she should feel grateful that someone actually cares enough to worry about her, but a heavy part of her knows that long gone is the time when those feelings would have had any impact on her. A small thought, a resentful thought, wonders where Mary-Margaret was 15 years ago, 20 years ago.

"You didn't even have your phone, you could have been dead in a ditch for all I knew," Mary-Margaret adds.

Emma can't help the dry chuckle that escapes. "And I thought Henry was over-dramatic," she mumbles with a shake of her head, becoming increasingly tired of the conversation the longer she stands there. It shouldn't matter how much Emma drinks or where she goes. This woman is her roommate. Not her babysitter. Emma shouldn't have to stand here and be lectured over something that is frankly none of Mary-Margaret's business.

"I am not being over-dramatic!" Mary-Margaret squeals suddenly.

Emma stops fidgeting long enough to look up at her.

Mary-Margaret quickly becomes flustered. "Okay, okay, so maybe I am... just a little," she concedes with a roll of her eyes. "But that's not the point."

"Look, I'm sorry that I caused you to worry, Mary-Margaret, but it's not a big deal, really," Emma says, giving the concerned woman another forced smile. "I'll remember to grab my phone next time."

"Not a big deal? Next time? Emma-"

"Please just..." Emma sighs, her feet shuffling again before she hardens her stance. "What I do, is my business. You don't have to like it, but I would appreciate it if you just... left it alone."

"Emma..."

"I really should shower," Emma continues, already backing off and away from the hurt and confusion staring back at her. "And you should get to work," she adds, glancing at the clock. "The storm was mostly all bark instead of bite, so the streets are relatively safe, just a few bits of debris here and there. Just keep an eye out." And with that Emma disappears upstairs.

Mary-Margaret swallows over the sudden lump in her throat at Emma's dismissal. She knows Emma can be distant at times, but Mary-Margaret doesn't remember being pushed away quite this blatantly. As she gathers her purse and keys, she turns her eyes to the small stairway once more, then quickly gathers her jacket and exits the apartment before she gives in to the urge to follow Emma and question her some more.

Once Emma is sure the apartment is vacant, she turns the water on and strips while it heats up, some of the tension already beginning to leave her as she pushes the conversation with Mary-Margaret out of her mind.

After a few minutes she steps into the steaming spray and begins washing the filth from her body. While the heat soothes her, she focuses on mentally preparing herself for the work day ahead of her. On the walk over from Regina's house, she had actually been surprised at how little damage had been done overnight. A couple of tree limbs had fallen not far from the Mayoral mansion, but other than that, Emma had only run across scattered bits of wood, broken-off shingles, and a few upturned trash bins. The most dangerous thing now is the amount of water on the roads, but she's certain it'll all have receded or evaporated come tomorrow morning. All in all it had turned out better than she expected.

She only wished she could say the same thing about the rest of her day.

xxxxx

"Two coffees... black. To-go, please," Emma mutters, letting herself slump momentarily on the countertop of the diner. Granny nods, giving Emma a peculiar look before heading to the coffee pot.

"Sure you don't want to make that a large, honey?" She asks, taking Emma by surprise by sounding more admonishing than kind.

Emma sits up more, assuming that Granny's in a mood because of the damage done to the roof of the diner. "No, thanks. I'm fine with a regular." At Granny's indifferent shrug and pinched lips, she adds, "And, uh, once I get back to the station and pick up the paperwork, I'll make this my first stop on the rounds."

"You could have made this your first stop 45 minutes ago," Granny replies irritably, jerking her head in the direction of the clock as she sets the travel cups on the counter. Emma is already aware that she's very late, so she gives an awkward, unenthused smile and places a few bills down with a murmured, "Sorry."

As Emma climbs into her patrol car, she wonders if everyone else in town is going to be as grumpy with her.

xxxxx

"So you're alive after all," Ruby greets, sitting at her desk and looking rather bored as she fiddles with one of her knick-knacks.

Emma gives her an apologetic smile as she walks up to the desk. "Yeah, sorry I'm late. Got a little held up. But I have some coffee to make up for it," she says quickly, setting Ruby's cup down in front of her.

"A cheap cup of black coffee is pretty much on the lowest level of apologetic beverages, Emma," Ruby teases, lifting the container up to her nose and giving it a swirl.

"I'll spring for the cappuccino next time," Emma responds with a small, forced laugh. "Just give me a few minutes to gather the blank report forms and we'll head out."

As Emma goes into her office towards the filing cabinet, Ruby spins her chair to follow her movements so they can continue to talk.

"Have there been any calls?" Emma asks rifling through the drawers.

"Just a couple," Ruby calls back. "And they were both Granny, so not too important."

Emma nods, growing impatient as she closes the first drawer with no results.

"So... did you have an interesting night?" Ruby cautiously asks, appearing uninterested as she crosses her legs and examines her nails.

"No, not really," Emma answers distractedly. She knows the forms are in here somewhere, damn it. She's already late enough as it is.

"You sure about that?"

Emma has a cabinet drawer halfway open when she halts, Ruby's knowing tone causing a red flag to shoot up through the workday fog.

She knows something... Ruby knows something. Emma can almost feel the acid crawling back up her throat as the cold dread washes over her.

But she can't possibly, _possibly_ know about Regina... can she?

With her back still turned to Ruby, she licks her dry, cracked lips and finishes pulling open the drawer. She feels her hands shaking as she tries to casually flip through the folders, not even aware that she's not even reading the labels as she swallows and says, "Yep..." A beat. "Why?"

The long pause from the brunette causes a tightness to form in her chest and she has the urge to turn around and shout at the girl to spit it out, to voice her accusations and tell Emma how depraved she must be. Emma knows that as soon as she hears the words 'I know about Regina' leave Ruby's lips, she won't be able to deny it; any lie or coverup that Emma uses will be useless when paired with her trembling hands, shallow breathing, and stricken expression that she can't seem to get control of.

A sigh from behind her alerts her that Ruby is about to finally speak and she tenses, pausing in her random paper shuffling.

"Listen, Emma, I'm just going to come out with it. What you do... well, it's none of my business, and I know that I'm the last person who should be saying anything, but... next time you decide to go out and party, you should probably let someone know where you're going."

"Party?" Emma says automatically, shaking limbs forgotten as she whips around to face the deputy.

"Or whatever," Ruby waves off. "I'm just saying that the next time you leave in the middle of the night, maybe you should tell Mary-Margaret where you're going. I got woken up around 2am with her interrogating me about your whereabouts. I didn't have any idea where in the hell you were and she sounded really worried." Ruby looks a little awkward as she continues, "She mentioned something about you getting drunk at the house and then just... leaving?"

Emma looks away, not able to withstand another set of concerned eyes turned on her, then shifts back around to the drawer.

She thought she would feel more relief, knowing that her secret had remained hidden, but her muscles remain strained, her chest weighted down with an overbearing heaviness that hasn't wanted to leave her since she'd woken up this morning, and part of her begins to feel as if she's being suffocated. "Something like that," she mumbles, feeling just a little irritation at Mary-Margaret. Who else did she call and inform of Emma's less-than-pleasant evening? Is that why Granny was sour with her? Because she knew about Emma's bender the night before?

"She thought you might've crashed at my place," Ruby continues, seemingly trying to fish for more information. When Emma isn't more forthcoming, she decides to be more blunt. "If you don't mind me asking, where _did_ you go last night? I mean, it wasn't exactly safe out there." Ruby begins spinning wistfully from side to side as speaks. "The roads were practically flooded – but, oh, Mary-Margaret mentioned that you didn't take your car, so I guess that was a good decision considering the booze. She also said that you didn't take your phone which, you know, probably wasn't the best thing to do since you-"

"I know," Emma cuts off harshly, the pounding returning to her head. "I _know_ I shouldn't have gone out in that kind of weather, I _know_ I shouldn't have been drinking for a number of reasons, and I _know_ I'm an idiot. That has been well established, thank you."

Emma hears the chair creak to a halt but doesn't bother turning around, the guilt already gnawing on her. She knows that by not hastily apologizing that she's only making it worse, but, damn it, maybe she's tired of apologizing for the day. First to Regina, then to Mary-Margaret, then to Granny... she's had it. Hell, she just said 'sorry' to Ruby for being late not even 5 minutes ago. Her apologies have practically been thrown back in her face anyway, so why bother? She's the Sheriff, she's on-duty, she shouldn't have to say 'sorry' to anyone right now.

As she's trying to convince herself of this, she hears Ruby mutter, "I'll be in the car when you're ready," followed by the brunette's footsteps as she exits the station.

Instead of feeling shame, or even remorse, Emma feels grateful. It's as if fresh air has returned to her lungs and she is allowed to put everything on hold. She slumps against the cabinet, trying to reel herself in, trying to comprehend why her stomach is still in knots, why she finds herself loathing the sight of her friends, why she wants to hit something, why she's even having these thoughts. It's barely taking anything to set her off and she hates the lack of control she has over herself.

Blaming the alcohol for her drunken thoughts and actions is one thing, but she doubts being hungover is enough of an excuse to be acting the way she is. She's sure others would readily agree, and just the thought of that causes the subtle throbbing in her head to begin pulsing angrily again.

The old mindset of not having to care about what others might say or think is starting to become increasingly tempting; Emma can practically feel it trying to lure her back in, hooking its finger at her invitingly as it promises to make the guilt and the worries and the insecurities fade away, at least on the conscious level. Just like it had done for the past 28 years.

If it got her this far, she must have been doing something right.

Right?

xxxxx

"Sheriff. How nice of you to finally make an appearance."

Emma decides to keep her sunglasses on as she shuts the patrol car door, Ruby – who had remained silent throughout the drive over – having already stepped out on the passenger side and planted herself next to the Mayor.

"Had to get the paperwork together," she sighs, running a tired hand through her hair and glancing towards the entrance to the diner a few feet away as she steps up onto the sidewalk. "What are you even doing here anyway?" She asks, long since losing surprise at Regina's random appearances, but not able to help indulging in the familiar greeting.

Regina purses her lips irritably as she clasps one hand over the other in front of her. Emma merely smirks in response, Regina's subtle agitation adding a silver lining to her increasingly horrible morning.

"As the Mayor of Storybrooke, it is my duty to oversee-"

"Christ, never mind," Emma interrupts, rolling her eyes behind her shades. "You're here for your image, that's all you have to say." Emma then snatches a blank report out of Ruby's hands and walks around both women to look for Granny so she can get started on the assessment.

Ruby takes a step to follow her, but stumbles as she suddenly backtracks to face the stony-faced Mayor.

"Sorry about that, Madam Mayor. Um, Sheriff Swan isn't feeling too well. She's under the weather, so to speak," Ruby rushes out, attempting to smile at her own word play but the reception from the Mayor is cold.

"I see," Regina replies, abruptly turning her back on the brunette and making her way toward the forming congregation of people in front of the diner.

With a helping hand from Sidney, Regina steps up onto the makeshift platform set for her.

"Everyone! Everyone, if I could have your attention!"

Emma leans back against the door frame of the entrance, crossing her arms as her statement from Granny is cut short. She barely absorbs any of the reassuring words Regina is feeding the town, instead choosing to let her head swivel around to the upturned faces, wondering how many of them Mary-Margaret possibly called. No one is so much as looking at her, so she can only take that as a good sign. Either that or she should be giving Regina more credit for her talent to captivate a crowd.

"While the damage to the town is not as severe as we may have feared, there is still work to be done. There are already a handful of volunteers out clearing the roads as we speak, and other volunteer groups will be needed for trash pick-up and other means. As the Mayor of this town, nothing would make me more proud than to have citizens coming together to help not only Storybrooke, but each other in this time of need."

Emma bites her lip and looks away with a shake of her head, thinking that maybe Regina is laying it on a little thick. Time of need? It's not as if anything or anyone is in any great peril. A few extra leaves on the ground never killed anyone. Murmurs of agreement echo throughout the crowd in Regina's favor and Emma scoffs.

She looks back at Regina in time to see the woman spare a half-glance in her direction, and Emma feels her back stiffen.

"Our very own Sheriff Swan will be supervising the the new groups once all reports have been taken down and filed."

All eyes turn to Emma and she she suddenly straightens, putting forth an effort to not become slack-jawed by Regina's statement.

Sheriff Swan will be doing what now?

"Volunteers are to meet here within an hour's time, spread the word. That should give the Sheriff more than enough time to have everything in order and for you to seek out more helping hands. Thank you for your time, and for your cooperation." Regina then lowers herself from the platform, smiling graciously at everyone, before sauntering over to the diner entrance and brushing past Emma without so much as an acknowledgment.

"Son of a bitch," Emma whispers, becoming livid. Several people nod in her direction by way of affirming that they'll be here and Emma can only nod stiffly back, barely holding back a snarl.

Ruby settles next to her against the doorway, silent and unreadable as she shuffles the forms in her hands. If she's expecting an apology, Emma thinks, then she's missed the boat because she is in no mood for it. Without saying anything, Emma abandons her post and heads into the diner.

She sees Regina at the bar, mumbling something to Granny and checking her watch. Emma throws caution to the wind and stomps right up beside the brunette, pulling her sunglasses off and making her glare known.

"What the hell, Regina?" She grounds out, her anger spiking just at the sight of the Mayor looking so put-together and in-check.

After several long seconds pass, Emma realizes that she's being ignored and before she can stop herself, her fist is banging down on the counter hard enough to make the napkin dispensers shake.

"If you're not going to ever file a report about the damage done to my place of business, Sheriff, kindly not take it upon yourself to cause more of it," Granny chides, sliding a cup of coffee to the Mayor.

Emma doesn't hear her, only having eyes for Regina.

"Thank you, that will be all," Regina dismisses, sitting more comfortably as she adjusts in her seat. Granny nods her head and starts shuffling away, giving Emma a glare of her own as she mumbles the words 'no good' and 'inept'.

Regina takes her time, blowing on her coffee and taking a couple of sips, before finally setting it down and turning her body to face that of the seething Sheriff's.

"You wished to speak with me, Ms. Swan?" Regina appears to look upon Emma with overly rapt attention, as if the blonde is another citizen that she will have to condescendingly placate, as if Emma is beneath her. Her tone is so smooth, so... unbothered.

"Yes. I did," Emma says, attempting to keep the angry shake out of her voice. "I can't head up any of that volunteer crap, you know that."

"And why not?" Regina asks lightly, letting her hand drift back to idly run a finger over the rim of her cup.

"I don't have time for any of that rallying bullshit. After I'm done assessing here, I have to hit up the other stores and houses that have been affected and assess the damage there, write up official reports back at the office, then submit them to you. Not mention the time spent confirming and sending reports to insurance companies."

Regina lifts an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Do the rough assessments first, supervise the crews, _then_ head back to the office for all of the official documentation," she says easily, turning back around to face the counter. "It's called 'time management' for a reason, Sheriff."

Emma chews on the inside of her lip, her frustration mounting. "I'm not doing it," she states flatly.

"You are and you will," Regina says without missing a beat, sounding rather bored as she takes another sip.

Emma fights the inner-urge to stomp her foot and shout 'Why!', instead letting herself succumb to the fact that she is basically going to be everyone's whipping girl today, so she might as well suck it up. After another minute, she turns to lean her folded arms on the counter and looks back over at Regina, at the subtle smugness gracing her features.

"Are you adding to my workload because I blew you off outside, or because of something else?" Emma could just blame it on Regina's personality in general, but who's to say it's not revenge? When Regina springs stuff on her, there's usually an underlying catalyst, and if she's having to bend over and grasp her ankles for Regina, she wants to know the real reason why.

Regina turns her head slightly to give Emma a small, dubious smile. "I suggest you think twice before venturing down that road, Ms. Swan."

Emma scoots closer, her elbow brushing the tailored sleeve of Regina's suit jacket. "Is your ego really that fragile? Or is this some scheme of yours, hm? Gonna try to make my day that much harder because I got dirt on your windowsill?" Emma knows she should be treading more lightly, should just be taking her licks and walking away. But when has she ever done what she's supposed to where Regina is concerned?

Regina glances around before glaring warningly in Emma's direction. "Now is not the time for another one of your paranoid delusions-"

"Or is it because I got your carpet wet?" Emma continues, her low murmuring voice cutting across Regina's. "Hmm?" She notices Regina beginning to rile and it's Emma's turn to feel a little smug.

"Ms. Swan," Regina replies coolly, "Despite what you may think, if I had cooked up some grand scheme to make you miserable, it would have involved something a bit more creative than simply making you do your job."

Emma laughs, low and throaty. Then she leans closer, a smirk on her face as she breathes, "Or was it because I got rough with you?" She knows as soon as the words leave her mouth that she has stepped over the line, but the act of saying it, of saying everything in such a public setting, causes a thrilling sensation to shoot up her spine. Is she being careless? Most definitely. But then again, that's how everyone has been treating her today, as some reckless child: Mary-Margaret, Ruby, Granny, Regina... if that's how they see her, then why not embrace it? Why not confirm their accusations so they'd learn in the future not to have their hopes up so high?

"Enough," Regina snaps, sliding off of the stool and looking around again. She takes Emma by surprise when she steps back into her personal space. "I'm warning you," she growls. "If you do not get yourself under control-"

"You'll what? Punish me?" Emma retorts, leisurely reaching for Regina's coffee and draining the last of it. "You were done, right?"

Regina gives her a long, hard stare, seemingly fighting to keep her composure.

"Whatever this..." she gestures with a calculating finger, "is, it needs to end. Hungover or not, your attitude and lack of professional conduct will not be tolerated. This is strike one, Ms. Swan."

Emma tosses the empty plastic cup over the bar. "And what's strike three, Regina?" She murmurs mockingly, not willing to let herself be bullied into a corner. "I'm out?"

The Mayor pauses, her features becoming stoic as she realizes that any threats or forms of intimidation while Emma is in this state will simply fly right over the blonde's head. The furious gleam in her eye is the only thing that gives her away as she lessens the distance between them even more.

"Yes, Ms. Swan, that is correct. Out of the Sheriff's station, out of Storybrooke, out of Henry's life." She's aware that Emma isn't taking her seriously right now. But she knows it will sink in, whether it be right before Emma begins to drift off to sleep tonight, or when she's having a bite to eat with Henry at the diner next week, or maybe even 5 minutes from now; Regina knows Emma will realize how much she is putting at stake with her antics.

"Out of your bedroom..." Emma adds, smirking at Regina's poor attempt at leveraging Henry against her. Not a soul in the world could keep her from him, and deep down Emma believes that Regina knows that.

"The idea of which is growing more appealing by the minute," Regina fires back, her eyes flashing.

"Oh, you say that now," Emma replies, pushing off the bar to stand eye-to-eye with the Mayor. "But I think you'd miss me."

Regina backs up a step as something clangs in the backroom, then murmurs edgily, "Once again your confidence is highly misplaced."

"Is that so?" Emma challenges lowly, fighting against the reflex to advance on the other woman. She acknowledges that she's practically asking to get belittled, to get put down, but she can't stop herself. It's as if she needs to hear it, needs an excuse to make this day even worse, make herself feel even worse. Again, she briefly wonders why she's doing this to herself, why she's pushing the woman's buttons so heedlessly, but quickly becomes distracted by the small sneer forming on Regina's face.

"Ms. Swan, let's not pretend that you are anything but expendable. In fact, you're making me more aware every day of how much trouble you're actually worth." Regina doesn't dare get more descriptive in a setting this public – this exposed – and she bites back her harsher, more degrading comments in favor of remaining elusive. Just because Emma can't seem draw the line between business and pleasure, that doesn't mean Regina has to automatically fall into step.

Emma holds back a laugh, letting herself smile instead. If only Regina knew how many people had said something along those same lines to her over the years. The word 'trouble' almost always made an appearance, and she supposes that it always will. "You would think you'd have kicked me to the curb by now," Emma taunts, not seeming the least bit fazed by Regina's words.

While a part of Regina registers the fact that the blonde brings up a good point, she chooses to brush the thought aside and says just as evenly, "Don't tempt me." If Emma is under the impression that Regina won't drop her just to prove a point, the girl is sorely mistaken.

Emma senses the underlying seriousness in her tone and shrugs noncommittally, turning to lean her back and elbows against the bar. She may be spouting her mouth off right now, but she's not willing to fully jeopardize her endeavors with the Mayor, especially over something so stupid.

Regina sees the defeat in Emma's stance and attempts to withhold the smug upturn of her lip, lest she set off another bout that she really does not have the time for.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Sheriff, I have places I need to be, as do you. I trust you'll manage to pull yourself together beforehand, otherwise there will be consequences," she states with severity, turning for the exit.

"Oh, and be a dear and cover me, would you?" she adds, her tone considerably lighter as she gestures over her shoulder behind the bar where the coffee cup lay.

Emma rolls her eyes, but digs into her pocket for a couple of bills anyway. She then slides her sunglasses back on, mutinous thoughts still knocking around in her head as she pulls the unfinished report out of her jacket pocket. Consequences, she thinks with a scoff. What will the woman do? Write her up? Fire her?

And who was she to yet again bring up her 'professional conduct'? Emma's here, isn't she? She's doing the work. When she's tired, it's called into question; when she's hungover, it's called into question; hell, when she's stone-cold sober, it's called into question. Maybe she should just quit? At least that way nobody would be hounding her... judging her... depending on her.

Maybe she could take Ruby's old job... run around serving greasy food to greasy customers and getting their greasy money shoved in her apron. Now there's an idea, she thinks bitingly. Go from Sheriff Swan, a-sort-of respected member of law enforcement, to just Emma, the grumpy, grease-stained waitress, now armed with pen and notepad.

A part of her is aware that she's being irrational, moody, and perhaps just plain mean, but she quickly lets herself get over it, and can only hope that everyone else will do the same. Tomorrow, after she's had some food and some sleep, she's sure she'll be back to going through the usual, people-pleasing motions once again.

But for today, she just needs to focus on her job and everyone else needs to stay out of her way.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Sorry for the extreme delay, and for the major pacing issues that are peppered throughout the chapter. I hope it wasn't too glaring that it took you away from the story.

Please let me know what you thought of the chapter. Thank you for reading.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Thank you for all of the reviews, follows, and favorites, guys. I appreciate every one of them. This chapter is a tad longer than usual and a little rough around the edges, but I hope you're able to stick with it.

* * *

><p>"You're up early," Mary-Margaret greets from the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of coffee as she watches Emma's fully dressed form trudging down the stairs. "It's Saturday, thought you didn't have to be at the station until noon?"<p>

"Didn't finish with the paperwork yesterday," Emma explains around a yawn, joining her roommate at the counter as Mary-Margaret reaches up into the cabinet for another coffee mug. "The insurance company is being a pain in the ass and trying to screw Granny over, so I'm having to fight them over every stupid shingle that got blown off from the storm Wednesday night."

Mary-Margaret slides the steaming mug across the counter to Emma, her brow furrowing in confusion. "I don't like that Granny is having a tough time of it, but you're not required to fight on her behalf, are you? If it's getting to be too much, then perhaps you should leave it between the company and the diner, Emma," she says soothingly, still a little on her toes around Emma even after she apologized the day before for her behavior Thursday morning, when she had been hungover and irritable.

"Nah," Emma brushes off quickly, leaning her elbows on the bar as she wraps her hands around the mug. "It's alright, I don't mind doing it. Maybe next time they'll think twice before skimping out on someone else if I stay on their asses."

Mary-Margaret nods, stirring creamer into her own cup. If she were to guess, then she would say that Emma is doing this for Granny more out of guilt than anything. Emma had more than her fair share of blow-ups after she was left scrambling around with the assessments and supervising the volunteer groups, and Mary-Margaret has been noticing Emma working on rebuilding the bridges burned the past couple of days.

Well, "blow-ups" might be a bit exaggerated; Mary-Margaret had heard this news from Ruby after all.

From what she had gathered from the deputy's phone call Thursday evening, Emma had apparently been short with everyone after an impromptu meeting with the Mayor in the diner, leading to most of the citizens taking to avoiding her, which only caused more problems when she had been working the crews, which led to more short-fused episodes.

Mary-Margaret stills finds herself desperately curious as to the root of Emma's behavior, but can't summon the nerve to question her about it. Even when Emma had confronted her yesterday morning with a murmured apology, Mary-Margaret couldn't bring it in her to ask 'Why?'. Emma had given her a couple of vague excuses ("I was hungover." "Just had a bad day.") and Mary-Margaret had allowed them to roll over her without question, just grateful to see Emma acting more like herself.

A day later and she can still feel the burning desire to flat-out beg Emma to tell her what's wrong on the tip of her tongue. Emma can apologize and deny and smile all she wants, but Mary-Margaret knows something is troubling her, can see it with every downturn of her lips, every look cast away when she gets lost in her thoughts.

She is beginning to suspect even Emma herself doesn't know.

"So what are your plans for today?" Emma asks, pulling Mary-Margaret from her thoughts.

"Oh, the usual," she answers, gesturing to the pile of papers waiting to be graded behind her on the coffee table in the living room.

"Fun," Emma says dully.

"Probably moreso than what you'll be having to do," Mary-Margaret replies, giving a teasing raise of her eyebrows.

"Yeah..." Emma grouses, slouching a little more. "That is pretty much a guarantee."

After a minute or two of comfortable silence, Emma drains the last of her coffee and sighs before moving to grab her jacket and keys, ready to get the day started and done with. "I should be back by the usual time. Call my cell if you need anything."

"You too," Mary-Margaret says after a moment. "I mean... if you need anything... just call."

Emma pauses at the door, taking in Mary-Margaret's heavy look, then barely gives a flutter of a smile before disappearing.

If Emma had intended the gesture to be reassuring, Mary-Margaret feels that she missed the mark, and the brunette continues to absentmindedly swirl the contents of her cup, still not having drank from it.

**xxxxx**

"Oh!" Ruby startles, dropping a file onto the floor by her chair. "Emma! I didn't, um, I didn't think you'd be here this early."

Ruby rushes to pick up the papers spilled and stuffs them back into the folder, Emma bending to help grab the strays that had been swept out of reach.

"Duty calls," Emma replies, giving Ruby a light smile as she assembles the scattered reports.

Ruby smiles in return, then quickly diverts her attention elsewhere.

"What are _you_ doing here this early?" Emma asks, handing Ruby the papers and resting her hip against the desk as she scans her eyes over the various folders laying on top of it.

The brunette looks a bit nervous. "Well... I know you've been having a tough go of it the past couple of days... what with the storm and Granny's problems with the insurance guys, so I just wanted to...I don't know," Ruby shrugs, "help out a little? I didn't know you'd be here so soon, so I've only just gotten started."

"Ruby..." Emma sighs, her humor fading as she feels the squirm of guilt making itself known. "That's not necessary, really. I know things have been a little hectic here lately, but trust me, I've got things under control."

The silence from Ruby is awkward, the brunette's gaze shifting to anywhere but the sheriff's, and Emma is further reminded of how much of an asshole she was the other day. She had apologized yesterday at this very desk, but can still feel a thick tension lingering in the air, in the way that Ruby won't make eye-contact with her, won't completely relax in her presence. That Ruby feels she has to go out of her way to keep Emma from flying off the handlebars again is enough for Emma to confront the issue once again.

She runs a hand through her hair and slumps her shoulders a little more heavily as she moves to sit fully on the corner of Ruby's desk.

"Look, Ruby..." she sighs again. "What happened that day-"

"You don't have to explain, Emma," Ruby interrupts quickly, running her thumb along the edge of a folder. "You were under a lot of stress, I shouldn't have pestered you so much and-"

"No, no, it wasn't your fault," Emma cuts across hurriedly. "It wasn't anything you said or did, or anything like that. I just... I can't even explain it, but... please know that you don't need to put in any extra work because of it." She then leans over to slide the folder away from Ruby's fidgeting fingers. "Whatever it was, I'm over it. It won't happen again, and if it does, then feel free to... I don't know... lock me in the back of the patrol car until I've regained my senses or something."

Ruby chews on her lip, letting Emma simmer in another bout of silence as she runs a blood-red nail along a small dent in the desk's surface, seemingly in thought.

"Okay?" Emma prompts, knocking her knee against the arm of Ruby's chair lightly.

Another moment goes by before Ruby looks up at her and cracks a smile more genuine than the one she had given Emma yesterday after her lackluster attempt at apologizing the first time.

"Okay," Ruby states with a nod of her head, causing Emma to reciprocate the grin.

The squirming in Emma's stomach starts to ebb and she turns away to take a confident breath, feeling more at ease now that the air has been properly cleared this time. She hadn't been expecting it to go quite that smoothly. But then again, Ruby is always trying to see the best in people, is always ready to forgive. Now all Emma has to do is not take advantage of those qualities anymore in the future.

Ruby begins tapping her fingers against her chin, at a loss for what to do now, as Emma swings her dangling feet against the side of the desk aimlessly – the repeated thuds counting the seconds that tick by.

Emma turns back to Ruby after a minute, her mouth quirking slightly. "Well, since you're already here..." she drawls, reaching to slide the folder back in front of Ruby before hopping off the desk.

The deputy laughs, giving Emma a knowing raise of her eyebrow as she opens the file.

"You don't have to do much, I plan on getting through most of it today," Emma says, shoving her hands into her back pockets as she begins meandering back to her own office. "You can leave whenever, just give me a yell when you don't want to do anymore."

"Will do," Ruby calls over her shoulder, and Emma fully retreats, intent on calling up Granny to see if she's made any progress with the insurance company.

"Oh! Emma!" Ruby suddenly exclaims, spinning her chair around.

"Yeah?" Emma asks, turning back around.

"What are you doing tonight?" She asks, excitement brewing in her eyes.

"Um... not sure. Why?" The hesitance in Emma's voice barely deters the other woman.

"Me and some of the girls were thinking about meeting up over at that dance place over on Elm. Wanna come with?"

_Some of the girls?_ Emma tries to keep the repulsion from showing on her face, letting her features contort into surprise to cover.

"Oh, um, I don't know, Ruby..."

Emma doesn't have anything against Ruby's friends, but Emma has never really been the "girls' night out" type. Not in the sense that Ruby is speaking of, at least.

"Oh, come on," Ruby presses. "It'll be fun! A Saturday night is not a Saturday night without a little drinking and dancing."

"I think I've done plenty of that this week," Emma jokes, not entirely comfortable with putting more alcohol in her system so soon, especially since she's supposed to meet with Regina tomorrow night. If Emma meets up with her hungover a second time, she's sure things will not end up in her favor. _If you're even allowed back over there__,_ a voice whispers ruefully in her ear. Emma ignores it, pushing the heavy thought to the back of her mind without missing a beat.

Another awkward look graces Ruby's face before it quickly disappears into one of understanding. "Well... this time you'll be with friends. And we'll just be hanging out and dancing, there doesn't have to be any drinks involved," she says kindly.

Emma looks away, trying to formulate a good enough excuse to back out. The whole thing sounds as if it would be way too taxing, and playing nice with a bunch of people that she barely knows for hours on end doesn't sound too appealing.

"Please, Emma."

The pleading voice of the brunette coupled with the wide, doe-eyes tug at Emma in a way that makes her regret ever becoming attached to the idea of friendship. She supposes she still sort of owes Ruby, in a way, for the way she acted, and rejecting her now might not be the best option.

"Okay," she sighs, defeated. "I'll come, or whatever." To Emma's credit, she does try to keep some of the moroseness out of her voice.

Ruby claps her hands together as another bright smile lights up her face. "Alright! It's going to be awesome! We're gonna meet up at the diner around nine and carpool from there. Oh, and wear something that requires you to shave your legs."

"I shave my legs regularly, thank you very much," Emma says around an unexpected laugh.

"You know what I mean," Ruby says slyly. "You're always in those jeans, it wouldn't hurt to flaunt what you have, especially tonight. We are going to own the dance floor tonight!"

"Yeah..." Emma answers, once again using a smile to cover up how unsure she is.

A dress. Great.

"Well, let me know if anything changes," Emma says, probably a little too hopefully, before going back to her own desk.

Maybe Ruby's right. Maybe she does need to get out more. Most of her time is spent either at the apartment, at the diner, or at the station. Then again, Storybrooke doesn't exactly bleed "fun", so what else is she supposed to do in such a quiet town? Besides Regina, she thinks wryly.

The Mayor has pretty much been her outlet for any excess energy or anything even remotely adventurous, so she hasn't exactly been bored or craving more in the "getting out" department, but at the same time she can't very well tell Ruby that.

She picks up the phone, a sudden weariness settling upon her shoulders as she dials Granny's number.

**xxxxx**

"Sheriff's Station," Emma answers glumly. She's only been here for four hours and she is ready to shut everything down and go back to bed. Filling out the same reports again and again, then faxing them again and again, then confirming and re-confirming, has her beat. Her Saturdays are supposed to be relaxing, used for catching up on minor incidents and paperwork. But today feels more like a Monday than anything else and she feels increasingly tempted to put everything off until said day.

"Sheriff Swan," the deep, sharp voice replies.

Emma suddenly lifts out of the tired fog that has been occupying her brain for the past several hours.

"Madam Mayor," she says steadily, her voice going up an octave to rid itself of the gloomy nuance.

"I wish to speak with you about matters of a sensitive nature. Are you alone?"

Emma's brow furrows as her head tilts back in confusion.

"Umm, give me a second." She sets the phone down and moves around her desk to quietly shut the door, becoming a little more anxious with every step back to her chair.

"Okay, what is it?" she asks, a hesitant lilt making itself known.

"Tonight."

A pause surfaces as Emma awaits more information. Tonight? What is that supposed to mean?

When Regina isn't more forthcoming, Emma sighs, suddenly impatient. "What about it?"

Another suffering sigh sounds from the other end, as if Regina thinks Emma stupid for having to go into more detail, causing Emma to immediately bristle.

"Tonight. I've changed the evenings."

"Changed the..." Emma is briefly perplexed. "What?"

"We will be meeting on Saturday evenings instead of Sunday evenings, per your request. Do you have an issue with that?" Regina snaps.

Emma's eyes widen and her mouth gapes before snapping it shut again, collecting herself. "No, no... that would be great." Regina is inviting her back, Regina has even moved the days, Emma almost can't believe it. She thought she would have to press the issue for weeks before Regina would so much as budge, if the other woman hadn't barred her from the premises completely. Which clearly isn't the case, she thinks, feeling a little smug. The thought of no longer walking into work on Monday mornings looking and feeling like absolute shit from sleep-deprivation is already making her day that much brighter.

A swell of gratitude rises and before Emma can stop herself, words start tumbling out of her mouth. "Um... thanks... thank you... for, uh, moving the-"

"Same time," Regina cuts in sharply. "Don't be late."

Before the feeling of annoyance at being interrupted has a chance to fully register, Emma feels a hard twist in her stomach as she suddenly remembers her other plans for the night.

"Oh, wait!" She says hurriedly into the phone, sensing the impending hang-up. "I might... have somewhere else I have to be tonight," she continues, somewhat sulkily.

"Somewhere else?" The voice questions.

"Yeah... I, um, made plans with Ruby."

The silence on the other end lasts too long for Emma's liking.

Then an impassive, "I see," makes its way across.

Emma rolls her eyes, knowing what that means.

"I didn't know you were going to spring this on me," she tries. "Otherwise I wouldn't have agreed to go. It's just some dance thing and then-"

"Don't bother boring me with the details, Ms. Swan," Regina cuts across lazily. "Will you be able to make it tonight or not?"

Emma grits her teeth. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Regina snaps, her bite returning. "I go out of my way to rearrange this and you leave me with 'I don't know'?"

"Hey, it's not my fault you suddenly gave enough of a damn to do it," Emma fires back. Almost immediately she wants to take back her words. She's learned to not look gift horses in the mouth as far as Regina is concerned, and should know to just take the random acts of kindness and walk away. Calling Regina out on her inconsistencies only serves to bite Emma in the ass because then the other woman feels she has something to prove.

"Well, far be it from me to do you anymore favors," Regina replies, acting as if she's just been spat on. "Far be it from anyone to do anything for you with the way you repay them."

"As if I don't repay you in other ways, Regina," Emma murmurs darkly, not willing Regina to think of herself as some sort of saint.

"Oh, yes, you've been so grateful, so appreciative lately," Regina snarks. "The fact that you even still have your job should have you thanking me-"

"On bended knee?" Emma interjects harshly, feeling a stab of irritation at Regina always trying to distance herself from talking about what they do, always twisting the dirty details into some sort of 'professional standard'.

"Ms. Swan, either you're coming tonight or you're not," Regina breathes after a few moments.

Emma recognizes the sentence for what it is, and while she feels close to telling Regina to 'fuck off' and be done with it, she can feel the underlying want stirring more ferociously, outstripping any nerve she would have to say such a thing.

"I'll... do my best to be there," Emma says, a seethe still present in her tone. "If I'm not there by the usual time, then I'll just see you tomorrow night."

"You're going to have to do better than that, Ms. Swan. I run on no one's time but my own," Regina replies. "And I'm afraid that I have already made plans for tomorrow evening, so if you don't come tonight, you won't be expected until Wednesday."

Emma shifts the mouthpiece of the phone away as she drags a hand tiredly over her face and lets her chin rest in the palm of it.

She very heavily doubts that Regina has made plans for tomorrow at all and believes that the other woman is simply trying to force her hand, make Emma choose between her and Ruby. The very idea makes Emma want to laugh, maybe even dare to call Regina out on her schoolyard behavior.

"I'll be there," she drones instead, part of her still hesitant to add to the hostile friction that has been between them this past week. While Emma had apologized to everyone else for that day, she conveniently left Regina out, knowing that they are beyond apologies at this point.

"Good," Regina says stiffly. "Do not be late."

Even after Emma hears the click signaling the Mayor has hung up, she still keeps the phone pressed against her ear, almost tempted to call her right back and cancel. But after another moment, she drops it back into its cradle with a clunk and rubs at her eyes.

Picking one person over the other isn't exactly an easy decision, but in this case it should have been, considering the weight of both circumstances and how they differ. Choosing to either help repair her friendship with Ruby or get lucky with the Mayor should have made the choice glaringly obvious, easy on such a moral level.

But why should Emma pick just one when she can have both? She quickly formulates the times in her head, realizing that while she may not have much in terms of wiggle room, she should have just enough to pull off what has quickly become a fairly busy evening.

**xxxxx**

"Whoa! Emma, you look hot!" Ruby says with delight, her eyes bright as she sees Emma walk rigidly into the diner.

"Thanks," Emma mumbles, pulling the hem of her dress down. It feels as if it has shrunk since she last wore it those many months ago on her birthday, when Henry had arrived in Boston to give her the shock of her life. She's lucky she even found the heels to go with it.

"Red looks good on you," Ruby says appreciatively before turning to face three other girls circled around a table. "Everyone this is Emma, obviously, and Emma this is everyone. Looks like we're good to go!"

Emma gives a small, polite smile at the hasty introduction, noting that Ashley is the only one she truly recognizes and sort of knows out of the three, and gravitates towards her and Ruby as they file out of the diner and pile into a car.

Once they've made the drive over and have made it inside the surprisingly crowded, noisy club, Emma doesn't hesitate to order herself a beer. She feels Ruby's eyes on her as the bottle is set down in front of her at the table they are gathered around, and Emma goes out of her way to avoid Ruby's gaze as she takes a swig. She doesn't feel as if she has anything to feel ashamed about, it's a beer for fuck's sake, but she can't help the part of her that feels flustered and judged for it.

The brunette seems to sense this and she leans over to grasp at Emma's arm, giving her a reassuring smile as she clinks her martini glass with the lip of Emma's bottle.

Almost immediately Emma feels herself relax, her gratefulness showing on her face as she gives a thankful smile in return. She knows she probably shouldn't be indulging in alcohol after the last time she helped herself, but she firmly believes everything before Friday had been a fluke; the cards had been stacked against her just enough to blow up in her face, and just because a little Jack Daniels had been involved that doesn't necessarily mean that she has to swear off the drink completely.

The drinking has to be kept light tonight anyway because of Regina. Emma takes another hearty gulp as the woman's stern, pinched face slides into view among the other thoughts and images circling her mind. If Regina were to walk into the club right now, she has an idea of what the Mayor would say.

"_Really, Ms. Swan? Again? Haven't I told you once already that you will not be allowed inside my home under the influence?"_

Emma gives another roll of her eyes at the thought. She plans on having two, maybe three, beers at the most; getting drunk isn't on her agenda tonight.

Emma watches as one-by-one the girls she had come with begin to head off in the direction of either the dance floor or the bar. Ruby tries to persuade her to join the crowd at the floor, but she politely refuses, lacking the energy to form graceful enough movements permitted for the occasion.

The night wanes on and she continues to bide her time alone at the table, hovering over it as she sips steadily at her second bottle, checking the time on her phone every 10 minutes or so. Emma has no doubt that Regina will lock her door if she is so much as a minute late, so she makes sure to keep careful track.

"Wanna dance?" A gruff voice suddenly asks in her ear.

Emma flinches away, turning to look at the man who is hip-thrusting his way into her personal space.

"Um, no thanks," she yells above the music, shuffling a few steps around the table. "Not in the mood."

The guy shrugs his shoulders, never stopping the motion of his body as he gyrates over to the next woman. Emma feels her lip curl in disgust as Ruby makes her return.

"Not having a good time?" Ruby asks breathlessly, her brow creased in concern as she downs the last of her drink.

"What? Oh, no, I'm having fun," Emma replies in a rush, attempting a wide smile. "Just trying to deal with the more... enthusiastic crowd." She gestures over her shoulder.

Ruby gives a raise of her eyebrows as she signals for another martini. "Ah. Yeah, I ran into that guy earlier, definitely on the skeezy side."

Emma nods, drumming her fingers along with the beat of the music on the table's surface.

More time passes and she watches as Ruby takes the final gulp of yet another glass (Emma has been too distracted to keep proper count), and as Ruby catches her eye, Emma realizes that she is too slow in lifting the corners of her mouth.

"Emma, are you sure you're alright? I can drive you home if you've had your fill," Ruby says, her words slurring slightly as she once again grabs at Emma's arm.

"No, Ruby, I'm fine. I swear." Emma really doesn't want Ruby to think that she's not enjoying herself because then this whole thing will have been for nothing. She just needs to put up a brave face against the stale, sweaty air of the club for a little bit longer.

"Just a little restless, is all," Emma adds, seeing Ruby's skeptical look.

"Oh! I know! Let's do shots!" Ruby says excitedly, gripping Emma's arm with painful enthusiasm.

Emma grimaces. "I don't know if-"

"I'll be right back!" is all Ruby gives her before she disappears to the bar.

Emma sighs, the act of not wanting to let Ruby down warring with what Regina would say. Then she gets the thought that maybe a shot or two couldn't hurt, she's obviously uptight and still a little uncomfortable. Relaxing a little more wouldn't mean the end of the world.

A couple minutes pass by before Ruby returns. She stands opposite Emma and gives her a devilish grin, tapping the nails of both hands eagerly against the tabletop. Only seconds later another woman sets a tray down between them and Emma is slightly shocked to see ten shot glasses spread out on its surface.

Five shots? Ruby expects her to do five shots? Emma laughs with disbelief as Ruby places a glass in front of her and takes one for herself.

"Some of these are for the other girls, right?" Emma asks, sounding unsure, the heady smell of the tequila immediately engulfing her as she lifts the shot to her nose.

"If there's any left over," Ruby says with a wink, downing her first shot.

Emma smiles obligingly before letting the feature fade as she stares down at her glass, not knowing why this feels like such a do-or-die moment; it's not life-altering by any means. She doesn't know why she's preventing herself from having a good time – because surely that's the only outcome... right? As long as she's not completely plastered by the time she gets to Regina's, then she'll be fine. And it's not as if she's drinking out of fear or _because_ she's meeting up with Regina, she's just spending time with friends.

Emma doesn't give any more thought to the matter as she knocks back the tequila, slamming the glass back down on the table to the cheers of Ruby.

"Alright! Another!" Ruby shouts.

This time Emma grabs her own shot, licking the remnants of the previous one off her lips.

"We should toast to something!" Ruby continues, staring around aimlessly as she thinks of something worthy.

"Um... good health?" Emma offers lamely, lifting her glass.

Ruby snorts. "Okay, um, to good health and to... uh... whatever else!" She sloppily clinks her shot against Emma's, dumping some of the liquid out on the tray, before they both knock them back.

"Whoa! Save some for the rest of us!" One of the girls that accompanied them says, snatching a glass for herself.

"Help yourself," Emma says, pushing the tray towards her. Two shots are enough for her, she thinks, smacking her lips together against the tingling of the tequila.

"Where are the others?" Ruby asks the other girl, already taking another tequila shot for herself.

"Beats me," the girl says with a shrug, grabbing another glass off the tray before heading over to another table.

Emma glances around, spotting the curly blonde hair belonging to Ashley at the edge of the dance floor. "There's Ashley," Emma points out, but Ruby appears to be too distracted with her martini straw to acknowledge anything said. Emma just raises an eyebrow and lets her gaze wander some more.

"Well, I'm gonna head back out to the floor," Ruby says, moseying the short distance around the small table to place a hand on Emma's shoulder and lean in.

"Join me," she whispers teasingly.

Emma laughs, not unfamiliar with Ruby's overly-affectionate tendencies with everyone. It took her a few weeks to get used to it when she first decided to stay in Storybrooke, but now Ruby's exaggerated touches and words have become almost second-nature to her when around the brunette.

"I'd love to Ruby, but I'm about to leave," Emma replies, leaning back enough to catch Ruby's pout. "I had a good time, I really did. I just need to catch up on some stuff and get some sleep."

Ruby lets her hand slide from Emma's shoulder, looking mildly disappointed before giving her a playful shove. "Alright, glad you were able to get out for once. We'll have to do this again sometime."

"Definitely," Emma says, inwardly hoping Ruby is talking about a weekend far off into the future. She chances a glance at her phone to check the time and has to struggle not to show any outward emotion when she sees that she is running behind... very behind. She swore she just checked her phone 5 minutes ago; where the fuck did the time go?

"Shit," she whispers under her breath, shoving the device back into the ridiculous clutch she had to bring since she is without pockets.

"Oh, but at least do one last shot with me!" Ruby continues, oblivious, pulling the tray back over to them and taking two glasses out of the three left.

"I think I've had enough," Emma tries, scooting the shot away.

"Emma, come on," Ruby pleads. "Just one more to end the night."

Emma knows that Ruby won't let her leave without a fight otherwise, so she begrudgingly takes the tequila and empties the glass in one swallow, Ruby doing the same not a second later.

"I really have to go now," Emma says around a small grimace. "I'll see ya on Monday, try not to get into too much trouble while I'm gone. But – hey, be sure to take a cab home, okay? You can always pick the car up tomorrow."

"I know, I know," Ruby waves off with an indulgent grin. "Don't get into trouble either!"

"I'll try my best," she answers, the image of Regina surfacing once again as she starts weaving her way towards the exit.

**xxxxx**

Emma has the cab driver drop her off a block from the Mayor's mansion, just to be safe, and waits until he drives off to start walking in its direction.

She begins regretting her choice of footwear after 30 seconds, but focuses on the dull throb of her feet to help clear the gentle fog that has settled over her. Far from feeling the drunken haze of a few days ago, she instead feels the small heaviness of relaxation spreading throughout her limbs. As pleasant as the feeling is, she still wishes to keep her wits about her, keep herself on her toes to face whatever lays ahead of her.

Part of her wants to laugh at herself. It's not as if she is going into battle or setting off on some dangerous mission. She is just... returning to the house where she had drunkenly entered without permission... to the bedroom where she may or may not have been stripped and put to bed like a child... to the woman who bore witness to one of her lowest points...

Emma kicks at a random pebble, her expression turning sour and her amusement fading as she inwardly berates herself for delving into that line of thinking. She has already dealt with this and put it behind her. There is no sense in trying to shame herself, not now.

After a few minutes, she makes it to the front gate, opening it enough for her lithe frame to slip through, and carefully shuts it to avoid the rusted creak it's been known to give off.

Emma glances up at the mansion's many windows and sighs as she catches sight of the scuff marks lining up a small section of the Mayor's house in the dull glow from a nearby streetlight, no doubt remnants from her boots from when she had scaled the structure.

Emma shuts her mind off to the rest of the subtle reminders that flash at her here and there of that night as she walks across the concrete slabs, not willing to give them enough thought to intrude upon her current mindset of getting inside and taking what has been offered to her.

But first thing is first... She must be able to get through the front door.

She walks up the hard, unforgiving steps, her feet pulsing in protest within the tight confines of her shoes, before making it to the dismal welcome mat and glancing briefly at it out of habit. Emma is aware that she's not too atrociously late, but the heavy thought of Regina maybe having locked her out slips to the forefront of her mind. The nice buzz she had attained from the club keeps her from feeling too nervous, and it's with ease that she grasps the handle and turns it, allowing herself to smirk in victory when it turns all the way and the door opens.

Autopilot takes over as she crosses the threshold, and in seconds she is closing the door, locking it, and removing her heels, carrying them as she makes her way quietly up the staircase.

She takes it as another good sign that the hallway lights have remained lit, her shadow casting at odd angles as she turns one corner, and then another, softly padding her way to Regina's bedroom door. It's open a crack and Emma gently pushes it to allow herself fully inside, the moonlight streaming through the windows allowing for natural illumination.

It's not until she has set her heels and clutch on the floor that she realizes Regina isn't in the room. She glances towards the bathroom, but sees only darkness underneath the door. After a few more seconds of looking around, Emma slowly moves to sit on the very edge of the bed.

Regina has never not been in here before when Emma has arrived in the past, but stranger things have happened, so she chooses to wait, having to awkwardly keep reminding herself to keep her legs closed while in her current attire. The idea of removing the dress altogether tempts her, but then again, Emma's not even sure that Regina knows she's here in the first place – her walking in to find Emma completely naked in the middle of her bedroom might be a bit of a shock.

Another minute or two passes and Emma decides to settle more comfortably on the bed, scooting back so that her knees are dangling over the edge. It's not long after that that she begins swaying from side to side in an impatient cadence, her mind becoming dulled somewhat from the tequila.

Maybe Regina isn't even here, she thinks idly. Maybe she left after Emma failed to show up on time. Emma turns to look at the clock and scoffs. She's only half an hour late, Regina couldn't have been pissed enough to leave over that. She lets herself fall back completely on the bed and stretches, interlacing her fingers behind her head as she continues to entertain more precarious thoughts.

If Regina did leave, then where would she have gone? This is Storybrooke, everything is pretty much closed by this time of night. Everything except the club on the other side of town, Emma suddenly remembers. She laughs out loud, her addled mind imagining Regina trying to fit in in a place like that. She doubts the woman would make it to the parking lot before passing out from the fumes alone.

After taking a few seconds to settle herself back down, Emma gets back on track, blowing a few strands of hair out of her face. If Regina had left, then chances are she wouldn't have left the door unlocked... especially with Henry being here. Emma feels a jolt as she suddenly remembers her son. Of course, Regina wouldn't have left, not with Henry in the house.

Her lips form into a hard line as she listens for the sound of the boy's footsteps, regretting her earlier outburst. Considering the, uh, _other_ sounds that have come from this room at much higher volumes, she doesn't think she has too much to worry about and isn't surprised to hear nothing but the continued silence.

Breathing a small sigh of relief and relaxing once more, Emma drifts back into thought. Now that she is certain Regina is somewhere in the house, she begins wondering where the other woman has gotten off to. She briefly wonders if she should go look for her, maybe check to make sure Regina didn't fall and break a leg or something.

Even as she thinks it, Emma knows she won't be moving from this bed anytime soon. If Regina is hurt then she'll just have to suffer because Emma is far too comfortable at the moment.

Or _was_ comfortable. Her feet and calves are starting to become tingly and numb from hanging restlessly over the edge of the bed, so she starts mindlessly kicking and swinging them against the side, her impatience increasing. She is starting to come to the conclusion that Regina has no intention of coming up here at all, making Emma wait for nothing as payback for being late.

The thought alone has Emma tensing, an anger beginning to stir within her. Maybe Emma should go back downstairs and search for Regina, give her a piece of her mind for the attempt. Or better yet, maybe she should just leave.

"Classy."

Emma jumps, lifting herself up on her elbows at the sound of the familiar timbre, deep and resonating. Regina is leaning against the doorway, still in her work clothes – if the black pants and plain, white blouse are anything to go by – as she sips from a glass of wine.

Emma takes another second to register Regina's greeting and the mocking, judgmental pinch of the other woman's face and, with a blush, closes her legs, pulling the hem of her dress back down as she sits up.

"About time," Emma mutters, scooting to sit on the very edge of the bed once again.

Regina cocks her head to the side. "Funny. I was just about to say the very same thing."

Emma rolls her eyes, knowing she doesn't have an argument against that.

"I didn't hear you come in," Regina continues, abandoning the pedantic pretense and walking fully into the room to set her glass on the bureau and begin removing her jewelry.

"Means my entrance was a success," Emma says dryly. "Where were you anyway?"

"In the study. I thought it would be a good use of my time to get a head start on some work affairs after I dropped Henry off at a sleepover." Emma's eyes dimly light up as she realizes that they have the house to themselves. "After you failed to be on time, I decided to continue working rather than wait for you up here. You are normally not as quiet as you were this evening, so your entering went unnoticed."

"Took my shoes off," Emma explains with an indifferent shrug. "Wait, you assumed I'd still show, even after being late?" She asks suddenly, a little snide.

"Of course," Regina states confidently.

Emma nods, mockingly mouthing 'Of course' to herself as she moves to stand up. "So you've been in the study all evening? That why you're still dressed to the nines?" She asks, watching as Regina begins removing her earrings.

Regina eyes Emma's reflection in the mirror, her look knowing and smug. "Mm... not quite as much as some." Emma catches the heated once-over as Regina adds, "Nice dress."

Emma self-consciously tugs the hem down again as she mumbles, "Dance thing..."

"So I've heard," Regina replies smoothly. "You seem coherent enough. I take it you didn't overindulge this time?"

"No," Emma responds automatically, crossing her arms. She walks the few steps to the bureau and leans her hip against the side of it, now somewhat facing Regina as the other woman gingerly removes her necklace. "I didn't."

"Hmm... your breath says otherwise," Regina says, her nose wrinkling.

"A couple shots doesn't count as overindulging in my book," Emma says unimportantly, leisurely grabbing at Regina's wine glass to take a sip for herself. Generally speaking, she's not a wine person, so she's mildly surprised at the agreeable flavor.

"Proof that not everything has to burn a hole through your stomach for you to be able to enjoy it," Regina says, catching the impressed raise of Emma's eyebrows.

Emma stares at her for a moment, swirling the contents of the glass, before shaking her head with a muttered, "Whatever."

Regina merely smirks in response, and once she has placed the last of her jewelry away, she takes the glass out of Emma's hands and finishes the last mouthful.

"Hey!" Emma can't stop the scowl from forming. "I barely got any of that."

"I really like that dress," Regina says, ignoring Emma's petulance as she roves her eyes over the tight, red material. "It accentuates your features more gracefully than the grunge that you usually wear."

"Thanks," Emma deadpans. "But don't expect to see it around again though, or any dresses for that matter... just a one-off thing," she continues, absently smoothing her hands over the non-existent creases, unsure of whether Regina is listening to her or not.

Regina reaches forward to run a single finger down the side of the dress, stopping at Emma's hip before drawing her nail back up to brush against the side of a covered breast, setting the empty wine glass back on the dresser beside her with her other hand.

Emma sees that they've finally come to the point of the evening that they have both been waiting for, can see it in the dark glint of Regina's eyes, and she holds a hand up to stop Regina's advance.

"Seriously, do you have anymore of that stuff? I mean, since we don't have to be at the office tomorrow it couldn't hurt to have a little more-"

"Ms. Swan."

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever shut up?"

Emma smirks, Regina's impatience never failing to amuse her, especially now, when Emma is in control of what Regina wants. The faint idea of making the brunette work for it slips into her mind.

"Only when it suits me."

"I think it would suit you quite wonderfully now," Regina murmurs, bringing both hands into play as she rakes her fingers down Emma's sides once again before dragging them back up to squeeze at Emma's breasts.

"I'm inclined to agree," Emma breathes, reflexively pushing herself into Regina's hands. Having control and wielding it are two very different animals as far as Emma is concerned, and she knows that in this moment, with Regina's insistent, greedy hands on her, she has no inclination to challenge the other woman. Far from feeling weakened because of it, she draws on Regina's determined energy and puts her own hands to work, reaching for the buttons of Regina's blouse and haphazardly tugging them open one by one.

"Careful, you'll snag them," Regina snaps, her seductive tone deflating.

"As if you can't buy another shirt," Emma drawls, plucking at the rest of the buttons with little care.

"That's not the point. You don't see me risking damage to your outfit," Regina retorts, running her hands firmly up, down, and around as she gropes Emma over the material.

Emma undulates her body along with the movements of Regina's questing hands. "Only because you have some sort of weird fixation with it."

"I do not," Regina huffs, pulling Emma closer.

"You've barely looked above my neckline the entire time I've been here," she says, slipping her hands inside the now-open curtains of Regina's blouse and grasping her waist.

"Always with the exaggeration," Regina mutters.

"Always with the denial," Emma whispers back.

The conversation is brought to an abrupt end as Regina clutches the back of Emma's neck and pulls her forward, physically quieting her as their lips smack ungracefully together.

Emma doesn't hesitate to pull the plump bottom lip into her mouth, teething on it as she fumbles with the buttons of Regina's pants. Her venture is made more complicated as Regina turns them around and starts steering them towards the bed, shuffling Emma backward with her hips and hands.

"Mmff, the dress," Emma pants, breaking away from Regina's mouth. She knows it will be hell trying to strip it off once she's in a horizontal position, so she reaches for the zipper.

But Emma is cut short of her destination as Regina grabs her wrist, twisting her arm back around and returning it to the fastenings of her slacks.

"Keep it on," she whispers, almost breathlessly.

Emma shivers over the surge of arousal that alights her spine at Regina's words, and yanks at Regina's pants, popping the button off completely. Regina lets out a frustrated breath, leaning back to pull her shirt the rest of the way off before grasping the hem of Emma's dress and rucking it up, allowing enough room for Emma's legs to spread so the brunette can situate her body between them as they fall heavily onto the bedspread.

The weight of Regina's body against hers causes Emma to arch, raising her hips against Regina's own to form a small friction as the Mayor busies herself with nipping and sucking at the top swells of Emma's breasts. Emma briefly regrets that the dress itself isn't a strapless, it would be so easy for her to roll the fabric down a little more, expose more of herself to Regina's hungry mouth. She has half a mind to rip the thin straps right off, but can already hear Regina's horrified gasp if she were to desecrate the one thing she owns that the brunette considers to be decent.

She brings her hands up to Regina's sides, gliding them up and over the smooth skin of her back, digging the tips of her fingers against the muscles she feels shifting beneath her touch, and Regina groans. Emma repeats the movement, the breathy sighs puffing against her overheated skin causing goosebumps to form. As her fingers snag on the material of Regina's bra a second time, she begins working at the clasp of it, taking only seconds to unhook it and begin dragging the straps over Regina's shoulders.

"Up," she breathes, tapping Regina's right arm. Regina lifts it without hesitation, the material sliding down and off, before the brunette flings it off the bed with her other arm. She then settles back against Emma, her tongue licking a line up the blonde's throat as her hands run continually up and down the blonde's sides.

It's Emma turn to groan as Regina's bare breasts press against her and she feels the nipples rubbing through the material of the dress. The temptation to tear the dress off makes a reappearance, but again she fights it. She then slides her legs up to find a more pleasing angle, her dress inching up even more, and Regina obliges by rotating her hips in short, rhythmic thrusts, causing Emma to give a low, appreciative moan and slide her hand between Regina's shoulder blades.

She can feel the slacks still clinging to Regina's hips and while it doesn't bother her the first few minutes, it soon starts feeling abrasive against the skin of her thighs, taking only another couple of minutes for it to become downright chafing.

Before she can think better of it, she brings her feet up and begins trying to crudely shove the material off with her toes, her impatience tripling with every unsuccessful push.

"Ow," Regina gripes from the crook of her neck. "Could you be anymore of a brute?"

"If you would just work with me," Emma grumbles back.

After several indignant huffs, Regina is able to shimmy out of the slacks and underwear without breaking contact too much, kicking them off the end of the bed. As she stretches her nude form over Emma's clothed one, resuming the roll of her hips, she catches the small scowl being sent in her direction.

"Is there a problem, Ms. Swan?" She asks, slightly patronizing, dipping low to nuzzle at Emma's cleavage with her nose and flicking her tongue out against the dampened skin.

Emma swallows over the sensations taking place and sighs, somewhat annoyed, "I want to be able to feel you."

"Then feel me," Regina says smoothly, rubbing the length of her body against Emma's.

"I mean without anything in the way," Emma explains irritably, glancing pointedly down at her dress, under the firm belief that Regina knows exactly what she is talking about. "I want... I want to be able to feel you against me," she admits, giving a roll of her eyes at how stupid she sounds.

"Hmm..." Regina purrs, looking down at Emma's clothed chest. "Not yet."

Emma takes a deep breath, a strong flash of impatience making itself known. She's not certain of the game Regina is playing, but is aware of just how long her games can last, and she's not sure she is even capable of summoning forth the endurance for playing in one tonight. The tequila is starting to make her a little drowsy and irritable, and she knows that the sooner she has this dress off, the sooner her and Regina will be getting down to business.

"Regina... come on, I'm taking it off... Get up." Emma attempts to maneuver the Mayor off of her, but Regina presses her full weight against her once again.

"I said... not yet."

"But-"

"Is there somewhere else you have to be, Ms. Swan?" Regina says, the low, velvety drawl of her voice becoming sharp and cutting, causing Emma to flinch a little.

"No, but... I'm just getting kind of tired of the foreplay," she mumbles. "Can we just skip to me being naked and-"

"Well, in that case, why don't you make your leave?" Regina says, a coldness to her voice as she pushes herself up on her arms. "Don't let me keep you if you're too tired for me." She then sits up on her knees between Emma's legs and makes to get off the bed completely, but Emma snatches at her wrist, halting her.

"Christ, I didn't know you were so touchy," she says around a smirk, her slight drowsiness ebbing at Regina's tone.

"I'm not," Regina refutes, trying to shake Emma off. "I've just had it with your ungrateful atti-" Emma gives a sharp tug and the rest of Regina's words are lost in a gasp as she is unceremoniously pulled back on top of the blonde.

Emma quickly clasps her hands over Regina's backside to prevent her from rearing back up onto her knees, giving a squeeze out of habit.

"I'm not ungrateful," Emma says, once Regina has re-situated herself and is bracing on her arms above her, looking more cross than ever as she glares down at the sheriff. "Just impatient." Emma bites at her lip, not caring that the innocent gesture won't be bought. The fact that she is going out of her way to smooth things over should be enough for Regina, she thinks, a little annoyed that she's being made to jump through hoops.

In a way, she supposes that she can't really blame Regina for being on the defensive around her, for having less patience with her than usual, and assumes the other woman is still holding a bit of a grudge against her for what transpired in the diner Thursday between them. The familiar sinking feeling resurfaces, but Emma refuses to fully acknowledge it. She won't be made to feel guilty, not over Regina, not over the woman who, in the past, has said awful things to her in turn. They run on animosity, on resentment, not on apologies and absolution. It makes for a bumpy ride, but, in the end, they usually get to where they are going.

"I'm not too tired for you," she continues, squeezing the rounded flesh in her grasp to further persuade the doubtful Mayor. "I believe I've spent the past few months choosing you over sleep, so that's not even a question." Emma sees the small twitch of Regina's lip, a tell-tale sign that Regina is holding back a smirk, and represses one of her own.

"I'm not going anywhere, Madam Mayor. So you can either ignore me... or take advantage."

Regina raises an eyebrow, letting a few seconds pass before she sinks down, her face hovering just above Emma's.

"And what makes you think I won't just throw you out?"

Emma lets her eyes drop to the full, red-stained lips in front of her, lets herself breathe in the warm, inviting air for a moment.

"Because you've never been able to before."

Emma won't look back into the deep, dark brown eyes boring into hers, she can't – not even sure the words, so softly spoken, were even heard.

Grabbing at Regina's chin, she forces their lips together and focuses solely on the sensation of Regina's mouth melding to hers, on the feeling of hands returning to stroke roughly at her body.

Emma's hand slides from Regina's jaw to the nape of her neck, threading through thick locks and tightening as Regina's hands slide beneath her to grasp at her back, her arms encircling Emma in a smothering heat.

The sound of the zipper being pulled down isn't heard, becomes lost in the ragged breaths being exchanged above, and Emma barely registers the straps of her dress being easily torn, the skin of her breasts becoming exposed before being quickly overtaken by the skin of another.

Nails return to dig into the newly exposed skin of her back and she hisses into Regina's demanding mouth, her body curving up against the other woman. She feels that the dress has bunched around her waist, having been shoved from either end, and shivers as a hand leaves her back to stretch down and graze up the inside of her thigh. She knows where it's headed, yet can't contain the slight jump as warm fingers meet the wet material between her legs. Regina's fingers climb further up and Emma feels her skin becoming clawed as the other woman carelessly tears at her underwear, the flimsy excuse hastily tossed somewhere unknown before Regina's fingers return, no longer hindered by the barrier.

Emma bites at Regina's lip as a small whimper escapes, simultaneously grinding herself against the brunette's hand. Regina pulls her mouth away to respond with a nip of her own before moving to Emma's neck, sucking blindly at her throat as she slides two fingers into the ready entrance awaiting her.

"More," Emma croaks, rolling her hips with intent.

Regina responds by giving a hard pulse of her teeth against a tendon, meant as a form of admonishment, and Emma sucks in a breath before reading the signal for what it is and maneuvering her own hand down between them to slide through Regina's folds.

Regina lets out a harsh breath, a moan becoming audible as she shifts her hips enough to allow Emma entrance. Only after Emma has reciprocated does Regina allow a third finger to come into play, and soon a hard rhythm is set.

Over time the air becomes thick and humid, the base of Regina's neck becoming damp with sweat from the heat of Emma's hand, Emma's back developing a pointed ache from the fingertips pressing unforgivingly into her skin.

Regina continues to rove her mouth between Emma's lips and neck as their bodies rock and thrust, pants and moans becoming more frequent as their pace increases.

Emma clings harder to Regina, tousling the other woman's hair completely as she runs her hand continuously from the back of her neck up to the dark, damp locks and back again, trying to stay focused enough to keep her other hand in motion.

To say that Emma hates multitasking would be putting it lightly. She's aware it's fueled by her occasional laziness, not to mention selfishness as it pertains to this particular situation, so she doesn't allow herself to become too disgruntled. She drives her hand up unexpectedly, reveling in the strangled sound that it draws from the other woman. Regina is quick to respond with the same movement, causing Emma to swear appreciatively and feel mildly thankful that Henry isn't in the house.

She has the faraway thought of how convenient is it, that Regina decided to change the days on a night Henry wouldn't be here. If Henry wouldn't have had the sleepover, would Regina have even bothered changing the days? Would she have even given it any consideration? So much for the woman 'going out of her way', Emma thinks, slightly bitter.

_You should be lucky she invited you back here at all_, a voice whispers from the back of her mind. _More trouble than you're worth, you are._

Emma thrashes her head to the side to rid herself of the intrusive voice. She then feels Regina's hand at her back scraping down, moving to encircle her waist and grasp at her side, just above her hip, attempting to tame Emma's bucking movements.

Suddenly a shrill sound pierces the air and it takes but a few seconds for Emma to immediately recognize the simple, generic tune to be coming from her cell phone, still nestled in her clutch on the floor.

"Ignore it," Regina barks.

Emma nods absently; not that she has any other choice, Regina is keeping her pretty well pinned. And even if she wasn't, Emma feels it would be idiotic to abandon the position she is in now over the possibility of someone calling to report a cat stuck up in a tree. If it's something major, they'll call back, she thinks, reassuring herself as the ringing ceases.

Another minute passes and the little beep signaling a voice mail echoes dimly in Emma's mind. Her curiosity wanes as Regina seeks to further distract her, pulling and biting at her earlobe as she begins circling Emma's clit with her thumb. Emma bucks again, fighting against the nails digging into her side and enjoying it. If she's not butting heads with Regina over one thing, then it's over another.

"You're throwing me... off rhythm..." Regina breathes raggedly into her ear.

"Not my fault you can't... can't keep up," Emma shoots back, giving another defiant raise of her hips.

She feels the ominous vibrations against her throat before Regina presses her thumb down with a brute force.

"Jesus," Emma hisses, fisting Regina's hair tightly as her body twists away from and back to the pressure, her own rhythm becoming strained and confused. She jerks her leg higher up on Regina's waist to steady herself as she chews on the inside of her cheek to keep herself quiet, forgetting for a moment that they are alone in the house.

"Bitch," she pants after a moment, feeling herself beginning to pulse around Regina's fingers.

She hears the low purr of, "Mmm," against her ear, can almost feel the smirk forming against her neck as Regina feels for herself how close Emma is now. Emma digs the heel of her hand up against Regina's clit in retaliation, and the other woman automatically grinds herself against it with a groan, as if she had been expecting it.

Regina lifts her head, presumably to say something snide, but she's cut off as the shrill sound returns, jarring them both.

As the sound registers, Regina is quick to ignore it once again, barely faltering in her movements. But as the ringing continues, Emma begins growing mildly anxious. Who could be calling her at this hour? Mary-Margaret knows she's supposed to be back late because of her plans with Ruby... If it's anything to do with Henry, then Regina's phone would be ringing, not hers... She can't think of any other reason for her phone to be going off other than for it to be something Sheriff-related.

"Don't," Regina spits, seeing the subtle worry passing over Emma's features. "Don't even think about it."

"What if... what if it's an emergency?" Emma says, breathless as she struggles to maintain focus. "I should-"

"If it were anything serious my phone would be ringing too," Regina replies, her voice softening slightly as her eyes fight to remain open.

Emma realizes that Regina has a valid point. This town is so small that any true emergency would probably divert straight to the Mayor sooner than anyone, possibly even sooner than Emma herself.

"You're right," she breathes, falling back into step with Regina's movements.

"Of course I am," Regina states with unnerving sincerity, giving only a small curl of her lip before dropping her head back down to the crook of Emma's neck to concentrate.

As time passes, any thoughts or worries remaining of phone calls become drowned out in the harsh cadence that is now taking place upon Regina's bed.

"Fuck," Emma gasps, her body propelling backward enough for her hand to leave Regina's hair and fly back to the headboard, pushing against it to match Regina's aggression.

Regina sloppily mouths at her neck, her own hand unsticking itself from around Emma's waist to land beside hers on one of the headboard slats as they both ride that much closer to the edge. Emma wonders if they might not just rip the damn thing right off.

Regina appears to become lost in her own little world, and it isn't long before Emma feels the convulsions around her fingers and the shudders rocking above her... Regina's strained cry in her ear making her own body surge, feeling the brunette writhe against her more completely. She can almost feel the aftershocks stuttering their way through the woman above her, making themselves known through wayward hip jerks and hitching breaths.

Once they have ceased, Emma barely hesitates before tearing her hand out from between Regina's legs to grasp desperately at the Mayor's body, wet fingers sliding along the smooth skin before she's able to find purchase with her nails. Abandoning the headboard, she searches for another handhold on the woman, willing Regina to finish her off.

Regina tries to recover quickly, her breathing still labored as she feels her hair being yanked and her back being clawed, and shoves her fingers into Emma with a renewed energy, her other hand leaving the headboard as well to tangle her fingers in Emma's hair in turn. She pulls enough to force Emma's head farther back and Emma doesn't hesitate to pull at the roots of Regina's own hair to bring the brunette's mouth firmly to her exposed neck.

Emma feels Regina's teeth drag along the length of her throat, drifting to scrape along the protruding collarbone, and shivers in response. She hisses as Regina tightens the hold in her hair even more, and feels the other woman drag her tongue back up and nip at her jaw as her thrusts become more powerful.

"God..." Emma pants, the legs around Regina's waist slipping slightly amidst the sweat coating their bodies.

It doesn't hit her until now how badly she has been wanting this, needing this. To feel overwhelmed in such a way that it doesn't feel as if it's breaking her, harming her in some way is overly welcoming.

"We're alone," Regina rumbles, gruff and throaty, her thumb circling intently.

"Mmhmm," Emma grunts, barely paying attention to the words being spoken as her legs climb higher.

"Don't hold back, Ms. Swan," is grated into her ear next.

Emma mindlessly tries to nod, but remembers with a small stab of pain the strong grip that Regina has in her hair. She feels Regina's lips wandering over the column of her neck again, skimming across the skin with her usual nip here and there. Then Emma suddenly has a thought.

"Do it," she says around a gasp.

Regina's lips stop scouring; Emma can feel them hovering just below the line of her jaw, bumping against them every few seconds with the motion of their bodies. "I know you've been wanting to," she continues. "Even if you won't admit it."

She hears the growl and inhales sharply as her neck is bent even further into an uncomfortable arch, the pillow the only thing easing some of the strain. Even with the pain, Emma manages to smirk. She's known Regina long enough to recognize when she has accurately called the other woman out – the physical act of lashing out the only evidence she needs.

Emma waits, her own panting breaths not enough to cover the ones she feels puffing hotly against her throat. The agonizing seconds continue to stretch, filling the room with an almost palpable tension, and Emma sucks in a breath when Regina's lips once again resume their movement, brushing and tasting.

Regina drifts this way and that, her mouth nudging against a patch of skin, tongue flicking out, before moving on. When Emma feels her wander to the crook of her neck, just above the shoulder, and pause, her eyes flutter back open, feeling victorious.

Regina bites down, hard, sucking the flesh into her mouth with a ferocity that fulfills Emma's expectations. Emma cries out, her mouth stretching open at the sharp ache taking place, her nails digging in along the skin of the other woman's spine, elation swooping high in her stomach at the feel of Regina giving in.

The earlier nips and sucks were never meant to last beyond tonight, never meant to be seen outside of this bedroom. But as Regina takes Emma into her mouth with abandon, Emma knows of the intent being played out now, has been encouraging it.

Emma is being marked.

While Emma likes to think it's an act that can stand on its own, without the influence of vengeance, she knows that it's Regina's own belated form of retribution, of revenge for how she has been marked so flagrantly by Emma in the past. Emma has been feeling it for awhile now, the need, the urge Regina has to settle her own score. Regina might pretend to be above it, to be more in control of herself, but Emma knows better. For Emma had tempted her, and Regina had all but broken.

Risk and visibility are thoughts that remain distant, unwelcome in Regina's mind as the skin under the mercy of her mouth blooms into a blushing red... tongue, teeth, and lips drawing out the darker shade of plum amongst the sea of deep crimson.

She registers neither shame nor weakness in what she's doing, impulse and adrenaline blocking everything else out as she concentrates instead on pushing Emma to the edge, and shoving her off.

She feels Emma's legs squirming against her, the sheriff's hands digging and grasping, pulling and pushing... and Regina works her fingers that much harder, adding another and relishing in the small squeal that emanates from Emma as she is stretched and utterly filled.

"Goddamn it, Regina!" The blonde shouts hoarsely, a whimper causing her voice to crack.

Regina releases the skin of Emma's throat with a wet smack, relieving the tension on her neck as she pulls Emma forward for their lips to meet.

It's incredibly sloppy, not awe-inspiring in the least, but neither of them care. Technique is far behind them as they seek only another form of contact, their bodies moving too determinedly for them to do anything but press against each other, teeth grazing and tongues brushing in a wet, sticky tussle.

Regina feels the body beneath hers tensing – the movements constricted and imprecise, giving minute jerks and shallow breaths – and she slides her mouth over Emma's jaw, tracing a path back down to the fresh blemish awaiting her, and offers no hesitation before closing over it once again, the pressure she exudes almost as angry and callous as the heel of her hand against Emma's clit.

A sharp cry sears through stuffy air, tapering off before rising again as Regina continues her assault. Emma is incapable of forming anything coherent, can't even control the sounds firing out of her mouth as her throat spasms along with the rest of the muscles in her body. She is at the divide, can practically feel herself swaying violently as she toes the line... just waiting to be sent flying one way or another.

All it takes is one... two... three more thrusts and Emma is gone, surging against the weight on top of her as her mouth drops open, emitting a stunted keening sound, and rocks shallowly against the force of Regina's hand.

Air passes through her lungs at a strained pace as she continues to roll her hips, the rhythmic throbbing of her center squeezing and pulling at Regina's fingers as she is slammed again with another wave of numbing satisfaction. She feels the aching pull of various muscles as she pushes them past their limits, her chest tightening from lack of air, arms and legs burning with the effort of drawing as much as she can from the other woman. She feels the greed overtaking her, pushing her to want more, to get more, to take more, and she keeps her body moving, trying to use her motions to physically communicate with Regina that she isn't done, that the Mayor is not to stop, not yet, not for anything.

Regina, again, breaks from Emma's neck, moving to hover her face above Emma's, their noses knocking as they pant against each other. Emma feels the heat shift and opens her eyes, her brow still creased in concentration. It's almost as if Regina is studying her, and Emma isn't sure what's happening.

Regina flits her gaze over Emma's features, lingering on her parted lips, before her eyes meet Emma's once again.

"Let go," she whispers, her own features blank save for the lines of exhaustion.

Emma automatically digs her nails in deeper along Regina's back, clutching at her on reflex, causing the brunette to smirk at her.

"Not of me," she breathes. "Just... let go."

Emma comprehends, feeling her body beginning to reach its brink. As Regina continues to plow into her, she feels the tension mounting in her muscles even more; clenching, pulsing, throbbing, straining, shaking, before Regina's words return to her and she breaks, releasing the hold she has been digging her heels in on and becoming saturated in a flood of pleasurable relief. A pathetic, hoarse croak is all that Emma manages this time, the image of Regina becoming blurred before fading to black as her eyes screw shut and she's reduced to shudders and gasps, Regina's fingers bringing her steadily back down.

As everything slows down, Emma's legs slip from around Regina's waist to fall dully on the mattress, Regina's hand withdrawing as Emma becomes still.

Heavy breathing permeates the thick, sweaty air still surrounding them, Emma's chest struggling to rise and fall, and it's then that she becomes aware of not one, but two, heartbeats thundering through her body.

After her breathing has calmed somewhat, Emma slides her eyes open, taking her time in staring blankly at the ceiling for a few moments. She observes the shadows, casting long and deliberate across her field of vision, as she feels the weight settle more heavily onto her.

Seconds pass and Emma abandons the oblivious pretense, allowing her gaze to drift down and fixate on the dark mop of hair that rests beneath her chin, watching as it rises and falls with every deep breath Emma takes.

She focuses on making her breathing as manageable and even as possible. While it's not unusual for Emma to rest on top of Regina from time to time, the action has never been reciprocated before now, and she doesn't wish to disturb the other woman.

By some act of mercy, her head remains clear of any intruding thoughts, of anything that would cause her to react poorly, and her breathing remains stable, calm. A few minutes later, just as Emma thinks Regina might have possibly fallen asleep, she feels a languid sigh being breathed between her breasts, then a weight lifting as Regina rolls off of her.

Emma's slight disappointment is overrun by the immediate cold rolling over her and she quickly brings her arms back in to cover her chest, Regina having once again stripped away her warmth.

"Mmm..." Regina purrs again as she flexes her fingers, the moon's rays catching the wetness on them, giving them a peculiar glint.

Regina then looks over at Emma, her smug look firmly in place as she gives her a once over. Emma feels her annoyance returning, swallowing up the blissful feeling from earlier, but bites her tongue. Even when Regina is completely nude and her hair is an up-ended wreck, she still looks more put-together than Emma at the moment, with her ripped, rumpled dress, bruised neck, and legs still unabashedly spread as she lays limp and spent.

"Your phone rang again," Regina says quietly, stretching her body in a graceful, cat-like movement.

The contented feeling residing inside Emma vanishes instantaneously, a cold, nervous energy returning as she forces herself to sit up. She doesn't bother to question why she didn't hear it or why Regina didn't let her know the second it went off again – the answers already glaringly obvious – as she shifts her legs over the side of the bed.

Once she is standing on shaky limbs, she shoves the remnants of her dress over her hips and onto the carpet, stepping out of the pooled material and walking the short distance to her clutch. She shivers against the ever-present chill of the room as she bends to grab it off the floor and pull her cell out.

Her eyes squint against the white-bright screen, watering slightly as she makes out that she has 3 missed calls and 3 voice mails. As she checks the numbers she's surprised to find that Ruby called her first, followed by Mary-Margaret two more times after that.

After a few more clicks she's dialed into her mailbox and is listening to the slurred words of Ruby explaining that she is just calling to make sure that Emma made it home okay. Emma sighs, already knowing what Mary-Margaret's voice mails will most likely consist of, if Ruby's are anything to go by.

"Who was it?" Regina asks, watching as Emma runs a hand through her hair – a sign that she is either stressing or about to be.

"Hold on," Emma whispers distractedly, Mary-Margaret's first voice mail coming up.

'_Emma, it's me. I'm just calling to check up on you. Ruby called... said she couldn't get a hold of you and she wanted to check that you made it here safely. Call me back when you get a chance... so I know you're okay.'_

Emma quickly deletes the message, putting the phone back to her ear to catch the last one of the night.

_'Emma, I really don't mean to bother... but I would worry a lot less if you would call me back, let me know that you're safe.'_

The message ends after that and Emma can tell that Mary-Margaret had been trying not to sound too smothering, seemingly all too aware of how Emma reacted the last time. Guilt creeps up on her then and Emma looks down at her phone, unsure of what to do. Then the sound of a throat clearing behind her gains her attention.

"Oh... uh, just Mary-Margaret," she says, answering the question at Regina's impatient look. "Wondering where I am."

Regina smirks again. "Forgot to get permission to be out late, did you?"

Emma scowls in her direction before turning back to her phone. "Just worries too much is all," she mumbles.

"If you ask me, she meddles too much," Regina replies, her tone becoming constricted and sour.

"I didn't ask," Emma says blandly, slightly on the defensive, as she continues to look blankly at her cell. Regina merely gives a roll of her eyes and another stretch atop the bed's surface.

"Suppose I should call her back," Emma mutters, giving a small side-long glance at Regina.

Regina shrugs her shoulders slightly, looking uninterested as she reaches to pull the covers over her legs and chest as she sits up against the headboard. Emma shivers in response, finding herself wanting to be underneath the covers, in the warmth, more than she cares to admit. She has the wild thought of just climbing right in, of not saying anything and just settling in next to the other woman.

But common sense stops her. She can already imagine the look of confusion on Regina's face, followed by the stern rejection. The very thought is humiliating. There aren't any excuses to come into play this time. She's not drunk and the sky is a clear, stark black... no storms or inebriation to hide behind tonight... nothing to warrant Regina extending an invitation for her to stay.

Her train of thought starts to become a little too bumpy for her liking, and she gives a small shake of her head. She has her own place to get to, her own room, with her own bed. Emma got what she came for, she doesn't need anything else from the other woman. Quickly dismissing any further though on the matter, she goes about calling Mary-Margaret back.

It rings twice before an alert voice picks up. "_Hello? Emma?"_

"Hey, Mary-Margaret. Yeah, it's me... Sorry about the missed calls, I was, uh... a little busy."

Emma frowns as she hears Regina's derisive snort and walks further away, not wanting Mary-Margaret to hear anything suspicious.

"_Oh... it's okay, I was just... I just wanted to make sure..."_

"That I was okay, yeah," Emma says, sensing her roommate trying to hold herself back again. "I'm actually about to head home now... should be back soon, so why don't you go ahead and go back to bed."

The pause on the other end of the line tells Emma that perhaps she was a bit hasty, and a little rude, but what else could she say?

"_Oh, um... alright... Be careful, Emma."_

"I will. See ya." Emma hangs up, thankful that Mary-Margaret kept her curiosity in check about where she is at the moment. She has a feeling that the 'At a friend's place' excuse might not settle too well a second time.

She turns back around, a little surprised to see Regina watching her rather intently.

"So..." Emma says, looking around and away from the other woman's gaze. "Um... don't suppose I could borrow some clothes?" Emma looks down at the red dress splayed on Regina's floor. If worse comes to worst, she could put it back on, the thing is tight enough to stay on her without straps, but she knows the material has gathered more than its fair share of stains and she is loathe to feel the cold spots pressed against her skin.

Regina gives a lift of her eyebrow before motioning towards the bureau.

"Second to last drawers on the left and right."

Emma, feeling a little awkward, moves towards the dresser, bending slightly to pull open one of the drawers indicated and pulling out a plain, white V-neck. She opens the drawer on the right and searches carefully until she finds a pair of thin, gray sweatpants. Not the best combination, but it'll have to do. No one should be out this late, so hopefully she will go unseen as she walks home.

Once she has pulled on the borrowed clothing, she picks up the now dingy, wrinkled material of her dress and holds it out to properly inspect, seeing the aforementioned wet spots and the ripped straps hanging loosely off of it.

"Shame," she hears Regina say with a tinge of regret. "I really liked that dress."

_Obviously,_ Emma thinks, crumpling it back up into a ball and holding onto it, already planning which dumpster to throw it in now that it's ruined.

"Do you have any shoes... like, uh, sandals or flip-flops or something? I don't think I could fit into your regular shoes," Emma says, looking around, knowing that she is pushing her luck. She may not care too much what others think about her, but she will be damned if she struts down the street in heels with this outfit, whether the sidewalks are empty or not; the mismatched clothes and look of debauched exhaustion on her face will already be enough to classify as a walk of shame, she doesn't need to fully qualify herself.

Regina sighs. "Do I look like a woman who owns a pair of flip-flops, Ms. Swan?"

"Just thought I'd ask," Emma says, her frustration increasing. "Can I at least borrow a pair of socks so I'm not having to walk home barefoot?"

Regina pauses in readjusting herself against the headboard. "What do you mean 'barefoot'?" She asks after a few seconds, looking over at Emma's heels on the floor. "Wait, what do you mean 'walk'?"

"I took a cab here," Emma explains, annoyed. "So unless you plan on lending me the keys to your Mercedes, I'm walking back."

Surprisingly, Regina looks more annoyed than she does and is actually glaring at her.

"For god sakes," Regina grouses. "You don't give a single thought to planning these things out do you?"

"Hey, it's not as if I haven't done it before. I had to walk home from here a couple days ago, didn't I? It's not a big deal."

"That was different, you were appropriately dressed and it wasn't in the middle of the night. Plus you didn't have any other choice in that matter," Regina snaps, her arms crossing over the sheet she still has draped over herself.

"Are you suggesting I have one now?" Emma questions, the irritation filtering out of her voice unexpectedly. She quickly tries to smother the spark of hope she feels with... something, anything... but it won't come.

"You still don't get it, do you?" Regina mutters, shaking her head as she stares at Emma with slight wonder.

Emma takes a step closer to the bed, the marred dress falling out of her hand without either of them taking notice.

"Get what?" She asks, suddenly more curious than she has ever remembered being in her life.

Regina almost smiles then, traces of the mocking look making itself known in the small crinkles at the corners of her dark eyes, in the faded lines around her lips, before she lets the familiar stoic feature roll over her.

"Nothing," she whispers, peeling back the sheets from the other side of the bed.

"No, tell me what you mean," Emma presses.

"I will not," Regina replies, a small shadow of a smirk coming into play amidst the passiveness.

"Regina-"

"Ms. Swan," Regina cuts across, her voice heavy as she pinpoints Emma with a small, exasperated stare.

"What?" Emma snaps.

"Take off that ridiculous outfit and come to bed."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you thought of the chapter.


End file.
